


The New Dawn of Fódlan

by theRadioStarr



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-29
Updated: 2020-05-25
Packaged: 2021-03-02 02:40:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 19
Words: 111,939
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23907832
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theRadioStarr/pseuds/theRadioStarr
Summary: "You, me, the Golden Deer… we could be great together."This work will contain end-game spoilers for the Verdant Wind route from the beginning of the fic.
Relationships: My Unit | Byleth & Claude von Riegan, My Unit | Byleth/Claude von Riegan
Comments: 52
Kudos: 114





	1. Chapter 1

_So_ that’s _why they call her the Ashen Demon. Gods, she’s terrifying._

The town was quiet as they left it behind. Claude trailed a little behind the others, still trying to calm his racing heart. That girl… he’d heard tales of her and her father. The Blade Breaker and the Ashen Demon, they called them here in Fódlan. He’d wondered at the start if that was who they’d found, but only just confirmed it with one of the mercenaries in her father’s employ. 

_What is she thinking? She is_ impossible _to read. Does she not..._ feel? _I’ve never seen such a blank and vacant expression on anyone before._

She’d shown some sort of interest in him and the Alliance. He couldn’t blame her; the Alliance was some of the most beautiful land in Fódlan. Why was it that she felt drawn in? Was it the nature? The politics? Perhaps the people had been the most hospitable to them. 

He caught her looking over her shoulder at him, and realized he’d let a little too much space get between himself and the group. He hurried to catch up. 

They weren’t far off from the monastery, now. Another hour or so of travel, and they’d be back. Jeralt was heading the group, talking animatedly with that knight, Alois, that was sent with them, along with Alois’ small group of men. The girl who’d saved Edelgard - _Byleth, that’s her name_ \- was flanked by their Royal Highnesses. He carefully inserted himself between Byleth and Dimitri as they walked. 

They walked in silence for a time before Dimitri broke it. 

“So…” Dimitri cleared his throat. “This will be your first time at the monastery. I’d be happy to show you around.” 

“It really is Fódlan in a nutshell.” _What is Dimitri going for? He’s a little too… sunny for my liking._ “The good _and_ the bad.” 

“Like it or not, we’ll be there soon enough.” 

Edelgard’s tone was final and her expression, as always, was stony. _She’s an emperor, alright. Through and through._

They went back to walking in silence. 

It didn’t take much longer for the trees on the road ahead to thin out, and soon, the monastery was within sight again. 

“There it is,” Edelgard commented absently. “Garreg Mach Monastery.” 

Claude watched Byleth curiously out of the corner of his eye, wondering if she would react in any way. Her expression didn’t change, but her pace slowed slightly as she stared at the sight in front of her. He was taken aback at how different she looked in the mid-morning light. He hadn’t expected to see the subtle green undertones in her almost-teal coloured hair, or the way the light made her eyes sparkle like freshly polished blue steel. 

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” he asked, matching her pace. Dimitri and Edelgard closed the gap ahead of them on instinct and began to chat. 

Byleth nodded, looked at him briefly, and then continued along the road behind the others. 

_Well, that was… something. A woman of few words, I suppose._

He was surprised when Byleth broke the silence a few moments later. “Why is there a school here?” 

“Something to do with an Almyran invasion a couple hundred years ago, and the at-the-time Archbishop wanting to have a place to train military leaders. It just kind of stuck around after the threat passed.” 

“Have you been here long?” 

Claude shook his head. “Only a couple of weeks, myself. The arrival deadline for this year’s students was a few days ago. We haven’t even been assigned classes yet, aside from our houses. We’ve just been getting into the swing of life here and getting the school year started.”

“Were there more of you?” 

“There are tons of us - oh, you mean last night?” Byleth nodded at him. “Nah, it was a private exercise for the house leaders. Trying to gauge our abilities, or something like that. Also testing out a new professor that had been hired on. I don’t think that guy will be keeping his job.” 

“He won’t?” 

“Well, he’s either dead, or a coward who left students in his care to die.” Claude shrugged. “I respect someone who knows how to make a strategic retreat, but that wasn’t a good call for him to make.” 

Byleth shook her head. “If you’re leading, you make sure you’re the last out.” 

“Exactly,” Claude agreed. “People need a leader. And if you’re the leader, you do more harm than good by stubbornly sticking it out and ending up letting yourself be… removed from the equation.” 

Silence fell between them for a while. They started to catch up to Edelgard and Dimitri again, who he could hear arguing - sorry, no, _debating_ , as Dimitri would remind him - over some detail of royal life that he was happy to put behind himself while he was here. 

He’d managed to keep his royal ties to Almyra private, thanks in large part to his crest giving him claim to leading the Alliance in future. That was all the people here seemed to care about. It baffled him. He kept mum about the rest, and people thought him to be _charming_ for it. He wondered how quickly that would change if they knew where he grew up. 

Claude weighed a question in his mind for a moment, then decided to ask. “Forgive me if it’s rude, but have you had any formal education?” 

Byleth shook her head. “Not in a school, anyway.” 

“Just learned as you went, huh?” 

“Yes. I learned to read as a child but since the time I was strong enough to hold a sword, that’s been my whole life.” 

“And not an easy one,” Claude acknowledged. “Still, I think a lot of people would consider you very lucky to have grown up outside of society’s influence like you have.” 

“Really?” 

“Well, yeah. You’ve probably been all over Fódlan, and seen parts of this continent that most people couldn’t imagine. You probably also have a better understanding of the politics in and between the various nations better than even some of the noble houses do.” 

“My father does. Me, not so much.” Her eyes were glued to the monastery looming ever closer. “I just swing my sword and earn my keep.” 

“And you do an extraordinary job of that, if I can say so.” _Is that a blush on her cheeks?_ “Did you know that the people have a name for you? You’ve earned a reputation for yourself with that sword.” 

“I know my father is called the Blade Breaker,” she answered him. “I believe they call _me_ the Ashen Demon.” 

_Sounds like a touchy subject._

“Byleth? Where - there you are. Excuse me, men.” 

“Yes, Captain!” Alois answered instantly. “Come along! We have precious students to return to the Academy!” 

Claude kept pace with Byleth until they reached Jeralt. “Well, it was nice to talk with you. Perhaps we’ll see more of you around the monastery. Maybe you should consider signing up with us in the Academy.” 

Byleth nodded, and he gave her one last smile before jogging to catch up with Edelgard and Dimitri. 

“Well, Claude? Just what are you planning?” Edelgard asked him as soon as he reached them. 

Dimitri side-eyed him. “So much for giving her time to settle in. Are you trying to get her wrapped up in your _antlers_ before we get the chance to say our piece?” 

Claude shrugged absently. “Just making friendly conversation, that’s all. I don’t see how or why that’s a problem.” 

“Look sharp, students! Archbishop Rhea is waiting for your arrival!” Alois announced. 

Claude and the others looked up to see Rhea watching them from her balcony up on the third floor of the keep. He still didn’t know if he was supposed to acknowledge her in some way or not, so he just kept moving. 

“Right, students,” Alois interjected again, right as Claude was about to ask what they needed to do. “I will make the report to the Archbishop. You should all find your classmates for now.” 

Alois didn’t wait to see them off. 

Claude rolled his shoulders and headed toward the field nearby. He wanted to get a good look at Jeralt and Byleth as they came in behind them. “Great. I’ll see you two later.” 

“The classrooms are that way, Claude,” Edelgard told him, gesturing toward the campus. 

“I know, I’ll head over that way in a bit.” He spun on his heel and backpedaled away from them, gesturing widely around the yard. “I just want to walk a little more of the tension from last night off.” 

“Let him be, Edel. Come, just because _he_ cannot follow instruction, does not mean that we can’t.” 

“ _Hmph._ ” 

They wasted no time in leaving him to his own devices. 

Claude found a suitable spot just as the two of them arrived. Jeralt came to a stop just inside the gate, and Byleth followed his lead, looking up at him as he stared up to Lady Rhea on the balcony. 

She didn’t look much like her father, studying them standing side-by-side. Though… she had his nose, now that he had time to actually look. And the way his brow furrowed looked exactly like hers had when they were fighting. 

Many would argue that Rhea was too far away to be able to read her expression, but Claude had better eyesight than most. He could almost imagine a small smile on the Archbishop’s face. 

Jeralt led Byleth further into the monastery. Claude waited until they had put a good fifty or so feet between them before leaving to find the Golden Deer classroom. 

He wasn’t sure what he expected when he walked in the room, but he could say, with certainty, that it _wasn’t_ Raphael bench-pressing a desk with three random students laying across it. Ignatz had a pen in hand and was furiously scribbling away at something; his pen strokes were too short and sharp to be writing. Lysithea was at the other end of the table, with three different books open in front of her. Leonie was demonstrating to a few other students proper archery stance. 

Lorenz looked to have poor Marianne cornered. Just as Claude walked in, Hilda dropped into a seat next to her and began fixing her hair, talking loudly over Lorenz. 

“Your hair is so beautiful, Marianne. Will you teach me how to do it like this?” 

“Oh, um - I - I don’t think-”

“I was _trying_ to have a conversation, Hilda. A lady of your status should know better than to interrupt.” 

Hilda didn’t look at him when she responded. “Sounded more like a creep than a conversation partner to me.”

“I meant no offence,” Lorenz answered. “I was simply saying that with a little more training, Marianne would make a lovely noble wife in a few years’ time-”

“And you _don’t_ see how that sounds creepy?” 

Claude tuned them out, crossing the room to the bookshelf in the front corner. He scanned the shelves until he found the history book he was looking for, and then took it to a desk as far away from Lorenz and Hilda’s argument as he could. 

He was still a little rusty on the details of the religion here. He knew enough to get by, but he didn’t want to be caught unawares. And he was looking for more clues and specifics regarding a certain Heroes' Relic...

He’d been reading uninterrupted for an hour or so with no real success before he heard a not-so-familiar voice call his name. 

“Claude?”

“Oh, Professor Manuela - I’m sorry, I didn’t see you come in.” 

“May I have a word outside, please?” 

“Of course,” he agreed, dog-earing his page and snapping the tome shut. “Let me put this away, and I’ll be right there.” 

He put the book back on the nearest shelf and followed Manuela out into the campus courtyard, where he found Edelgard and Dimitri waiting. 

“Well, fancy meeting you here.” 

Dimitri, at least, cracked a grin for a brief moment before clearing his throat and schooling himself. Edelgard just looked unimpressed. But, then again, when did she not? 

“Well,” Manuela started. “I have some news regarding our third professor. Lady Rhea has made an appointment.” 

“I would assume that the post went to Jeritza,” Edelgard stated. “He’s the next most logical and appropriate choice.” 

Manuela shook her head. “Lady Rhea has appointed Byleth.” 

“That’s an… interesting choice.” Dimitri couldn’t keep the surprise off his face. 

“But not a terrible one,” Claude added. _What a fun surprise._ “She has _years_ of actual combat experience under her belt. You saw how she works. We could all learn a _lot_ from her.” 

“So I hear.” Manuela shifted her weight from one foot to the other. “I thought it might be a fun little surprise for the students to keep this between us until introductions.”

“Understood.” Edelgard was doing a better job of keeping a neutral expression than Dimitri, but Claude thought he might detect a tone of irritation in her voice. “Will we be needed for anything else, Professor?” 

_Interesting. What is her tie to Jeritza? What does it benefit her to have him teaching? Did she orchestrate that attack last night in an effort to get him appointed?_

“That’s all I was sent for, but you should all go get some rest. Physician’s orders.” With that, Manuela dismissed herself with a smile. 

Claude yawned, widely and loudly. “Well, you heard the woman. Time for a nap. I’ll see you two at dinner.” 

“ _Hmph_. I have better things to be doing. The Black Eagle house won’t lead itself.” 

Claude shrugged nonchalantly. “One day, you’ll learn that you can’t properly take care of others until you learn to take care of yourself.” He didn’t wait for a response. There was a nearby tree in the courtyard that would serve as a perfect shade for a quick cat nap, and he intended to claim it before someone else did. 

_They’re both up to something, but I’d best keep an eye on Edelgard. Emperors aren’t known for their subtlety._


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Canon dialogue dump warning - sometimes it can't be avoided.

By the next morning, the entire student populace knew about Jeralt and Byleth. 

Jeralt had been appointed back on as the Captain of the Knights again. Claude was pretty sure that was the position he’d held before he left, so no surprises there. 

Most of the conversation was centred on Byleth. No one could come to a conclusion on what she was doing here. Most people didn’t even believe she was Jeralt’s daughter; there were already some pretty outrageous rumours out there. The most common theories were that she’d be joining on as a student, or joining the knights under her father’s command. 

Of course, he knew better. 

She’d come down to breakfast with a book under her arm. It looked to him like one of the textbooks they’d been issued. He wanted to talk to her then, but left her to her prep work. 

He had never met such an enigma before. Just who was this girl? _What_ was this girl? How was she so utterly devoid of emotion? 

And yet… she was strong. Stronger than anyone he’d met before - except his mother, maybe, but this Byleth had potential to surpass even her. Claude had plans and ideas for the future, and she could very well be someone he could use to help him bring that future to fruition. If he wanted to make that happen, he was going to need to lay it on pretty thick. 

He went about his day as usual, until she found him in the courtyard that afternoon. He waited until she was right in front of him to speak. 

“Well, well. Scored a teaching gig here, did ya? Talk about a great first impression. I guess that means I’d better introduce myself properly.” She tipped her head sideways at him as he folded his right arm across his front, his left behind his back, and gave her a bow. “I’m Claude von Riegan. I’m from the ruling house of the Leicester Alliance, but don’t worry too much about all that madness. I’m guessing you don’t know which class you’ll be teaching yet, do you? I bet you’d like ours. We’re not as… _difficult_ as the other two. Have you met the folks from the Golden Deer House yet? Care to know more about anyone?” 

“Yes, actually,” Byleth responded. Her expression was back to a stony neutral, and impossible to read. “Tell me more about yourself.” 

He gave her a winning smile. “Piqued your interest, have I?” It made him happier than he expected it to, but her blank expression still had him puzzled. “As luck would have it, I’m pretty curious about you as well. But what’s life without a bit of mystery? Let’s just spend the next year or so learning about each other, little by little.” 

Nothing from her. No response. Not a single out-of-place twitch of a muscle. _How does she_ do _that? How is she entirely immune to charm?_

Finally, she nodded slowly. “Right. How about the others?” 

“Everyone? Well, let’s see…” He ran down the list of notable students in his head. “There’s Lorenz. He’s the heir of Gloucester territory. If you haven’t already picked up on it, he’s a bit arrogant and fancies himself a lady’s man.” 

He paused to roll his eyes for dramatic effect, and heard Byleth huff a breath out of her nose. _I think that’s the tiniest smile I’ve ever seen. Maybe that was a laugh?_ “That said, deep down, he’s really devoted and honest… though I wouldn’t mind never hearing him talk about his _noble obligations_ ever again.” 

“I’m going to be more honest than a professor probably should be with a student,” Byleth cut in. “I think I dislike him already.” 

That earned a loud bark of a laugh out of Claude. “You’re not the only one in this place,” he told her. “Raphael comes from a merchant family, but his parents died in an accident. Seems like he’s had a rough life. Despite all that, he’s just about the most cheerful guy you’ll ever meet. His passions are eating, training, and… actually, that’s about it. He’s childhood friends with Ignatz. _He’s_ the second son of a merchant family. Since Ignatz’s brother will inherit the business, he’s training to become a knight. If you ask me, doesn’t seem like he truly wants to be a knight. He’s probably just doing it to please his parents. 

“That’s it for the notable men…” 

Byleth was nodding along. “And the women?” 

“I guess I’ll start with Lysithea.” He shifted his weight on his feet and rolled his neck before continuing. _Maybe she doesn’t like men, and that’s why my tricks aren’t working._ “She’s the daughter of Count Ordelia, and is probably the youngest student here. But watch out! She gets angry if you treat her like a child. As for me, I do it on purpose. You have to make your own fun in this place, you know?

“Marianne is Margrave Edmund’s daughter… and that’s pretty much all I know about her.” He caught Byleth’s brows shooting up ever so slightly in surprise. “She doesn’t interact much with other students, so I wouldn’t be surprised if a lot of folks here have never even heard her speak.” 

Byleth shrugged. “I’m not the best at small talk, either.” 

“Fair enough,” Claude agreed before continuing. “Hilda is the only daughter of Duke Goneril. It seems her father and brother coddle her quite a bit. If you look up ‘lazy’ in the dictionary… her picture won’t be there, because she never got around to submitting it. Not too unusual for a noble, I guess. And last but not least would be Leonie.” 

Byleth was nodding earnestly now. “I met her last night.” 

“Leonie enrolled because she wants to be a mercenary. I think she said that her father is a hunter. She’s pretty blunt, and as stingy as they come. A habitual saver, too. I think she’s hoping to repay her village for helping to send her here.” 

“She was my father’s apprentice for a while, apparently.”

“Is that so?”

Byleth nodded again. “I don’t remember her. It must have been when I was very young. Anyway, thank you for the information. I have my meeting with Rhea later this afternoon. I suppose I’ll learn which class I’ll be with then, and you’ll know after dinner.” 

“Well, good luck. You, me, the Golden Deer… we could be great together.” 

“Thank you, Claude.” 

“Anytime,” he answered as she spun on her heel and walked away. He watched her until she was out of sight, then heaved a sigh and headed back into the Golden Deer classroom. 

“Talk about a weird woman. Did you talk to that new girl, Claude?” Hilda’s voice carried halfway across the room with ease. 

“I think you’re forgetting that she’s the reason us house leaders didn’t die the other night during our exercise, Hilda.” 

“Oh, right.” 

“Her expression… it’s so cold,” Ignatz added. “Or is that just me? It’s like she’s staring into my soul.” 

“She grew up on battlefields, Ignatz. She’s seen things we could only imagine.” 

“Hey, between me and her, who do you think would win in an eating contest?” Raphael mused loudly from a nearby desk. 

“That depends,” Hilda replied. “You can’t judge a person’s strength or appetite based on size alone. I bet she could at least keep up with you after a fight or a training session.” 

“Is she going to be joining our class, Claude?” Lysithea asked him. 

“No one knows yet,” he told her. Technically, he wasn’t lying. 

Marianne shuffled her feet a little. “I hope she does. She seems nice to me.” 

“I hope so, too,” Leonie agreed. “Then, I can see what she’s learned from Captain Jeralt!” 

“It would make no difference to me. She’s hardly befitting of one in my station, and would simply be a waste of my time to worry about.” 

“It’s probably best if you _don’t_ give her the time of day, then, Lorenz,” Hilda instantly quipped with disgust. “If you made her angry, she could break you in half before you could say the word _noble_.” 

“I think that’s enough for now,” Claude interjected, before Lorenz could say anything else. “Let’s just take the time to enjoy our last afternoon before classes start. We’ll be finding out who our professor is after dinner tonight, so make sure you take care of anything you need to do today before then.” 

His classmates all muttered their agreements and went back to what they were doing. Claude claimed another book from the shelf and tucked it under his arm before heading toward the dining hall where it would be quieter and easier to focus. 

_All we can do now is wait,_ he thought to himself. _Here’s hoping things work in my favour._

It didn’t take long for Dimitri and Edelgard to find him there. 

“Well, I had hoped my conversation with Byleth would prove more enlightening than it did,” Dimitri mused. “Still, the Kingdom could use the training she has to offer. We are in great need of help.” 

“The Empire is always looking for promising individuals. Perhaps she’d be willing to join with us at the end of the year if she finds that teaching doesn’t agree with her.” 

“She’s strong, that’s for sure,” Claude agreed. “At the end of the day, though, there’s only one of her, and there are three classes. We won’t all get to benefit. And we can’t discount what Hanneman and Manuela can bring to the table for us, either.” 

“Don’t speak to us as if she doesn’t personally interest you, too, Claude,” Edelgard warned. “We know you’re up to something.” 

“Of course I am. Which of us isn’t? We all have dreams, don’t we? And she could help me reach mine, the same as she could help you two reach yours. I’m just saying that we need to keep our minds and our options open.” 

“You’re right,” Dimitri agreed. “At the end of the day, we must do what we can with what we’re given.” 

“The only one you can trust one hundred percent is yourself,” Edelgard added. 

Her and Dimirti continued to talk, but Claude was able to go back to his book. Eventually, they left him in peace until dinner arrived. 

Claude took his time eating, trying to savour every bite of his meal. He was done more quickly than he’d wanted to be, so he took the long way around on his walk back to the classroom. 

He was one of the first ones back. As the others filtered in, they started to huddle around the middle of the room. The energy was nervous but excited. Everyone was ready to find out who their professor would be. 

Claude joined in on their conversations, but kept his attention focused for the sound of someone approaching. Soon enough, he heard boots on the stone. Two pairs, if he wasn’t mistaken, heading toward them. One pair split off, likely headed into the Blue Lions classroom next door, while one last pair continued closer. 

He turned his attention to the doorway, and the others around him dropped their conversations, following his lead. 

Claude’s breath caught in his throat when he saw Byleth turn into their classroom. 

“Hey, Teach!” he called out. “So, you’re stuck with us after all?” 

“Wait,” Hilda interjected. “ _What?!_ Are you really our new homeroom professor?”

“Is that true? You aren’t quite what I had pictured - oh, sorry!” Shock was splashed all across Ignatz’ face. “I didn’t mean that the way it sounded.” 

“I was _sure_ you’d be roped into joining the knights!” Hilda continued, as if Ignatz hadn’t even spoken. 

Claude gave Byleth another winning smile. _Still no reaction_ . “Don’t tell me. You chose this class just to get to know me better, right? I’m flattered, really.” _Nothing. Not even an extra blink._ He chuckled a little nervously. “Whoops. Now that you’re our professor, maybe I should choose my words more carefully.” 

Byleth shrugged casually. “I don’t mind.” 

“Oh? Well, then!” A thought struck Claude rather suddenly. “Since we’re pretty close in age and all, I suppose formalities aren’t all that necessary.”

“One must really marvel at the exceptionality of this appointment. Becoming a teacher to students almost the same age as yourself. How… unusual.” In an uncharacteristic display, Lorenz reached up to scratch at his head. “I’ve heard you are a skilled mercenary, but I cannot shake my discomfort at your new position.” 

Raphael spoke up before anyone could say anything else. He seemed to be very excited. “Are you really as strong as they say? Let’s see your biceps! I bet I’ve packed on more muscle than you!”

“I doubt that,” Ignatz answered him gravely. “Apparently our new professor was personally recommended by Alois, one of the knights.”

“As far as skill goes, I’ve seen it with my own eyes,” Claude assured them. “What’s more, Teach here is the child of the most renowned former captain of the Knights of Seiros.”

“I’ve heard! There’s no way a child of the Captain isn’t worthy. It’s not possible,” Leonie added.

Lysithea looked confused. “The Captain? Who are you talking about?”

“Captain Jeralt, of course! The most notable captain of the Knights of Seiros and a peerless mercenary.”

“He’s not _that_ well-known…” Byleth finally said, sounding a little sheepish. 

Leonie sounded unimpressed. “It doesn’t matter what you think of him. Captain Jeralt deserves nothing but respect.” 

“Hm... ” Lysithea studied Byleth for a few seconds. “Well, after working as a mercenary alongside a father figure such as he, I have high hopes for our professor.” 

“Just because someone is special, doesn’t mean their children are special, too, Lysithea,” Hilda reminded her. “Assuming that a child is going to be exceptional just because of their lineage is a bad idea. Don’t you agree, Marianne?”

“Huh? Oh! Um… yes, I suppose so.” 

“Well, we can find out for ourselves in battle. I can’t _wait_ to see what tactics you’ve learned from the Captain.” 

“A battle? Shouldn’t we have a welcome party or something first? I’ll get the meat!”

“How savage,” Lorenz muttered before speaking up. “I propose a nice conversation over tea instead. I am more than willing to procure some high-quality leaves.” 

Raphael looked at Lorenz as if he’d sprouted a second head. “Tea? You can’t get to know someone over _tea_. If there’s no meat involved, it’s not a party!”

“Your common sensibilities are grating to my noble ears. Please quiet yourself.” 

“Sorry for the bickering, Teach,” Claude stated loudly, before anyone else could say anything. His classmates fell quiet. “As you can see, the Golden Deer House is a rowdy bunch. We’re not especially unified. You’ll find nobles and commoners alike here. Those who are dedicated to their studies alongside slackers. But hey, that just makes your life more exciting, right? I really hope you’re looking forward to the year ahead as much as I am.” 

He gave her a playful wink, but all she gave him back was a nod. _I_ will _break through that shell of hers. One day._

He wondered how long that might take. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry if you love Lorenz, because I seriously can't. And neither can Byleth, apparently.


	3. Chapter 3

“Sorry for the delay, everyone. I had a meeting with Lady Rhea this morning regarding this moon’s assignment.” Byleth hurried past Claude’s desk up the centre aisle, putting a stack of papers down on her desk before circling behind it to face them all. She was only a few minutes late to their first day. “Welcome to the Officer’s Academy. 

“A couple of things to go over quickly before we get started: I would like to request your patience as we get into the swing of things here. As you are no doubt aware by now, I am not exactly an academic sort. I have been a merc for as long as I can remember. I have never had a formal education myself. What you will learn from me will be vastly different than what you might learn in the other classes. 

“I will likely focus more on physical, hands-on learning than textbook work. You are here to learn the art of war, and forgive my arrogance, but aside from a battlefield, I don’t think you’ll learn that anywhere better than with me. However… If you feel this approach is not working for you, or that you aren’t getting what you feel you want out of your education here, please let me know so that we can consider transferring you to a different class that may match your learning style and goals better.”

Claude was genuinely surprised by how much emotion and emphasis her voice gave away, considering how expressionless she was. And he had never seen or heard this group so quiet and attentive before. The respect she commanded from the start was incredible. 

Byleth leaned forward and placed both palms on her desktop, leaning her weight on them. “Now, I’d like to get to know you all a little better, so I can figure out how best to help you grow. Claude, we’re going to skip right over you, because I’ve already seen you in action.” 

“Yeah you have, Teach.” 

“Hilda.”

“Yes, Professor?”

“What is your weapon of choice?” 

Claude watched colour start to rise to Hilda’s face. “Oh, um, Professor, I actually-”

“Hilda, let’s all be honest here. I would like you to look me in the eye and tell me that you do _not_ command respect, inspire fear, and wreck shit when you need to. You can’t be bothered to sit back and watch an incompetent man fuck up a job you can do flawlessly. You have a weapon of choice. I’d like to know what it is.” 

It took every ounce of Claude’s self-discipline not to laugh out loud. Hilda was quiet for about ten seconds. 

“Axes.” 

Byleth nodded. _Her voice holds so much passion, and yet, her face shows none of it. How does she do it?_ “I didn’t expect that. Good choice. How about you, Lorenz?” 

“Well, Professor, one of my station is required to learn-”

“Lorenz, I asked for your preference, not your proficiencies.” 

Lorenz shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “Lances, Professor.” 

“You are a caster as well.” 

It wasn’t a question. _How does she just know that?_

“Reason. Elemental magics.” 

“Good. We’ll go over what you know one-on-one today.” Byleth stood up straight and began to slowly circle back around to the front of the desk. “Ignatz?” 

“Bows, Professor,” Ignatz answered instantly, if a little fearfully. 

“Anything else?” 

“Not at the moment, but I’m open to the idea.” 

“Good mindset.” She paused for about five seconds, just looking at him. “Do I recall that you wanted to be a knight?” 

“Yes, Professor. Though archery isn’t the most knightly of fighting styles…”

Byleth shook her head. “Knighthood is a title and a way of life. Nothing more. It doesn’t depend on the weapon you wield.” 

Claude looked at Ignatz over his shoulder. Ignatz looked down at his book on the table in front of him, but Claude could see a small smile on his face. 

“Marianne? How about you?” 

Marianne looked up at her, shocked and scared. “Um, I - I only really know some healing magic, and even that, I’m not very good at.” 

“Don’t listen to her, Professor, she’s a great healer,” Hilda interjected. 

“ _Any_ healing is essential to success,” Byleth agreed. “You should be proud of that skill. It’s not an easy one to master, particularly in the heat of battle.” 

“Oh - um, thank you.” 

“Lysithea.” 

“Sorcery, Professor.” 

Byleth’s tone suggested surprise. “Dark magic?” 

“Yes Professor.” 

“ _Very_ interesting. Leonie?” 

“The same as Captain Jeralt, Professor. Lances and bows.” 

“As expected. And last but not least, Raphael.” 

“Do muscles count, Professor?” 

“Well, that depends,” Byleth answered him. “Do you prefer an unarmed approach? Have you tried gauntlets before?” 

“I usually use axes, but gauntlets sounds like fun!” 

“Oh, they are. When we get some training ground time, I’ll show you.” 

“Thanks, Professor!” 

“Alright.” She sat on the edge of the desk, her palms on the edge next to her hips, crossing her ankles. “It sounds like we have almost all the bases covered to start. No swords, but I think a couple of you will take to them nicely, if you’re willing to give them a try. Does anyone have any prior riding experience?” 

Claude looked around the room with the rest as they watched Lorenz, Hilda, and Leonie raise their hands. 

“Oh, but I’m not great with horses, Professor,” Hilda stated. 

“I love horses,” Marianne added. 

“That’s good to know,” Byleth said. “Now how about flying?” 

Claude was the only one to raise his hand. “Only a little.” 

Byleth was nodding again, her cold steel gaze piercing him. “I wasn’t expecting anyone, so that’s a pleasant surprise. It’s not so common outside of the knights here in Fódlan, and even among the knights, I understand it’s primarily pegasi, and therefore, their female knights. We won’t be getting to riding _or_ flying until you’ve mastered combat on your own two feet, though.” 

She straightened up again and put her left hand on the pommel of her decorative sword. “I’d like to take some time to speak to each of you one-on-one today to see what you’re capable of. First, though, let me tell you what our assignment for this moon is.” 

Claude leaned forward in his seat. 

“This moon, we’ll be participating in a mock battle against the other houses,” Byleth stated simply. “The idea is to get to know where you’re all starting from skill-wise. And I intend to prove that the Golden Deer House is the strongest this year, but also to prove to you all that you’re in capable hands. Sound good?” 

Murmurs of agreement sounded throughout the room. 

“Excellent. I’m going to start with one-on-ones now, so while you’re waiting to be called, please begin to read and work through the basic tactics exercises in chapter one of your textbooks. Feel free to brainstorm together to come up with what you feel are the best possible solutions, and we’ll discuss them once my one-on-ones are done. Claude?”

“I’m on it, Teach.” He stood up and approached her desk. She walked around to the back of her desk again, and turned her chair to face another that he hadn’t noticed before. She sank into her own chair, and gestured for him to sit in the other. 

He complied. “You know, Teach, this seems to suit you. You’re doing great so far.” 

“Thank you,” she answered him genuinely. “I’m a little nervous, I think, but I’m going to do the best I can with this.” 

“Well, I’m here to help if you need it.” 

“I’m sure I will. Now, you’re an archer. Anything else I should know about? What are you hoping to accomplish here?” 

_A lot of things I’m not ready to tell you about yet._ “Actually, Teach, I wanted to ask for some help.”

“Sure.” 

Claude leaned forward, folding his hands and resting his elbows on his knees. “Where I’m from, wyvern wrangling is sort of a rite of passage. I’d like to get some experience under my belt so that when I go back home, I’m ready to face my challenge.” 

“An interesting request.” Byleth leaned forward to match his stance. “So, flying is an obvious focus. Is there a second part to that?”

“Axes, traditionally.” 

She nodded at him. “Have you worked with axes before?” 

“Not successfully,” he admitted. “I can’t seem to figure it out. The bow is a far more comfortable fit for me.” 

She very clearly looked him up and down, sizing him up. He’d been sized up before, but never quite so academically. “You’ve got potential. You’re strong, and you’ve got the grip strength. Let’s make it a secondary focus to start with, at least until you’re a little more comfortable with it. Besides, if I remember correctly…” 

She opened a drawer in her desk and started shuffling through papers until she found what she was looking for, stared at it for a moment, and then snapped the drawer shut. “You can actually take a wyvern rider classification test here. Axes is listed as a needed proficiency. But it’s an advanced class.” 

“We’ve got all year.” 

“We’ll make sure we put a good amount of time into it so you’re prepared. Anything else non-combat related?” 

“I’m looking forward to the history classes as well,” he told her. “I’m curious to see the church’s view on certain events.” 

Byleth was quiet a moment. “You don’t seem much of a follower of the church.” 

“I could say the same for you.” 

“I’ve not had much exposure to the church before this,” Byleth admitted. “Actually, by _much_ I mean _any._ ”

“Interesting. I wonder how Jeralt managed it,” Claude mused. “There are lots of different beliefs in this world. I wouldn’t say I follow one or another in particular. But history is written by the victors. I’m curious to see how the church’s account differs from what I have back home.” 

Byleth nodded at him, staring blankly for about ten seconds before relaxing back into her chair again. “One last thing before we wrap this part up. I hope that we can work together to bring this house to greatness, Claude.”

Something about the way she said his name that time sent a little shiver up his spine. 

“I’m their professor now, but you are still the one they look to as a leader amongst peers: both as their house leader, and as the future leader of the Alliance. I’m here to support you in that task just as much as you’re here to support both me and them. You’re a smart man, I can see that already, and you have the skill for the job. I don’t think I actually need to remind you that they will be watching you vigilantly - always - but I will anyway.” 

“Don’t worry, Teach,” Claude assured her. “I’m intimately aware.” 

“Good. Now, on your feet,” she instructed him, “and go grab a bow and quiver from the weapons locker. I want to check your stance and your draw form.” 

  
  


* * *

  
  


Claude’s first moon of classes passed in a blur of exhaustion and muscle stiffness. By the time the mock battle came around, he felt like a new man. 

He had _never_ known strength in himself like this before. In fact, he had to order new uniform parts in a larger size because he was gaining some bulk. 

Byleth was an incredible teacher, pushing them all to their limits while keeping their spirits high. She’d suggested small tweaks to his stance which made him _far_ more accurate and light on his feet. They’d even started to get some axe work in, and it was finally making some sense. Namely, he’d been gripping it wrong the whole time, and trying to train with the wrong kind of axes. He hadn’t thought about it hard enough to realize that a hatchet wouldn’t be balanced the same as a waraxe. 

Watching the rest of the class learn from her was fascinating. Lysithea had picked up the sword with Ignatz, and never having been drawn to it before, found that she had a natural talent. Hilda was excelling with heavy armour and lances, though she still focused heavily on axes herself. Lorenz spent time in the beginning trying to show off, only to have Byleth tell him that everything he was doing was wrong (“That’ll look great in a jousting tourney, but on a battlefield, it _will_ get you killed.”) and starting him from scratch. Even Marianne was picking up some useful basic lance and sword techniques. Raphael was like a child in a sweets shop when Byleth gave him a set of gauntlets, and he’d refused to train in anything else since. 

It was no surprise to Claude when they trounced the other houses in the mock battle. Manuela and Hanneman had their strengths, but truly, battle was a game that only Byleth knew intimately. 

He’d overheard both Edelgard and Dimitri lamenting that they hadn’t received her as their professor, and tried not to gloat too much. 

She sat down with him for dinner that night. 

“Good show out there today, Teach,” he told her. 

“You all did a great job.”

“We couldn’t have done it without your guidance.” He took a few bites of his food before continuing. “I’m curious.” 

“About what?” 

“How did you get assigned to the Golden Deer?” 

She finished chewing her food, swallowed it, then washed it down with water quickly before answering him. “I got to choose.” 

“You did?” 

She nodded at him. “It was an easy choice for me.” Another bite of her food. Another mouthful of water. “It seems strange to say, Claude, but something about this house just felt like the right choice. Like fate, almost. I can’t explain it. But I think I was meant to meet you and the other Deer.” 

“I think I can speak for all of us when I say that we’re _very_ glad you did.” It was his turn to pause to take a bite of his food. She was candid, he’d learned. She wasn’t much for secret-keeping. Lately, he’d started to wonder if he’d be the same with less secrets of his own. 

Her voice brought him out of his thoughts. “Speaking of which, I had a student from the Lions request a transfer.” 

“Oh, really? Who?” 

“Sylvain,” she told him. “Warn the girls.” 

Claude snorted. “At least he’s got more charm than Lorenz. What’s his specialty?” 

“He’s a lancer, if I recall correctly. Has the air of a caster, too, but he swears he’s never attempted it. Could be an interesting angle to try. Might try him with swords, too, we’re a little lacking on that front. He’s got the raw strength and experience to excel a little more quickly than Ignatz.” 

“Doesn’t hurt to try.” Claude scraped the last bite of food off of his plate and stuffed it in his mouth, setting his cutlery down loudly. “You know, Teach, it’s nice to share a meal like this. We should do this more often.” 

“That would be nice,” she agreed with a nod. 

“Anyway, I’ve got some reading I’d like to get caught up on, so I’ll see you tomorrow.” 

“Have a good night,” she told him through a mouthful of food, bringing her hand up to cover her face. 

He gave her a smile and a wink before walking away from the table and back to his room. 

_There has_ got _to be something here that can give me a clue to the location of the Sword of the Creator. I refuse to believe it’s been ‘lost to time’._ According to records and legends, the King of Liberation had wielded the Sword to unify the people against a great threat. If he hoped to unify Fódlan, having the Sword at his disposal would be imperative. 

That was the whole reason he was here, after all. 

_And after I unify Fódlan, I can repair relations with Almyra, too. All of this fighting, over nothing. Someone needs to do something about it._

He spent hours that night, sat at his desk, bent over tome after tome after tome, looking for some sort of trace. 

_Nothing,_ he thought to himself bitterly, after snapping the cover closed on the eighth or ninth book he’d referenced. Plenty of diagrams of the Sword and mentions of it, but no clues as to its whereabouts. 

His candle had almost burnt itself out. _I’d better get some sleep. I’m not going to find anything useful at this rate._ He stretched as he stood up from his chair, then blew out the candle and got himself ready for bed in a daze. He hadn’t realized how tired he was. 

He flopped onto his bed, and he didn’t feel himself fall asleep. 

  
  


* * *

  
  


_Claude looked around himself, confused by the scenery. He appeared to be in the Academy courtyard. It had seen better days._

_Around him stood war-torn ruins, and the weighty silence that permeates such places. Small wildflowers had started to crop up where they pleased in the grass. The shadows were long in the late afternoon sun. A gentle breeze blew past him, rustling the leaves on nearby trees and startling a flock of small birds into taking flight. The sound sent a chill up his spine. It was like hearing the whispered screams of long-dead souls whose lives were taken too early in this once peaceful place._

_He held a bow in his hand - familiar to see, but not quite to feel. Failnaught was weighty in his grip, though not uncomfortable. He held it up and gave the string a few pulls to get a feel for the draw weight._

_The sound of footsteps interrupted him, and he spun around to see who was with him._

_It was a woman, close by, facing away from him. Her tea green hair blew around her as another breeze swept through, settling again behind the high, asymmetrical collar on her floor-length cloak. On her hip, dormant, rested the Sword of the Creator._

_Claude tried to move, but he was rooted in place. He tried to shout, but his voice wouldn’t work. He nocked and arrow and drew Failnaught, but couldn’t seem to let himself loose it at her._

_Her gaze, as she walked away from him, seemingly unaware of his presence, was trained on the Goddess Tower._


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Violence warning for sections 3 and 5.   
> Language warning for section 5.

He ran into Byleth in the entrance hall before breakfast that morning. 

“Hey, Teach,” he called. She stopped a few feet in front of him. “I see you’re as stony-faced as usual.” 

She didn’t respond. 

“Hmmm… I can’t tell if you’re feeling resigned, or if you’re just lost in thought. Or maybe you simply don’t care about anything that’s going on.” 

She blinked at him, a tiny furrow knotting her brow. 

“Oh… sorry.” Claude was suddenly very aware of the tone of his voice. “I really didn’t mean to be rude. I just find you fascinating.” 

And that was really, honestly true. She was an enigma. 

He watched as the little knot in her brow smoothed out.  _ Good. No harm done.  _ “Actually, there’s something I’d like to talk to you about. Can you spare some time?” 

“Sure,” she responded finally. “You hungry? I was heading to breakfast.” 

“That’s just the sort of attitude I’d expect from a new teacher. Sounds good,” he agreed, falling in step with her as she began to walk toward the meal hall. “So, before you came here, you were a mercenary, right? Always getting your hands dirty on the battlefield and whatnot? It’s a bit unusual that you suddenly decided to become a teacher one day. In any case, I’ve been meaning to ask: did your father teach you how to fight?” 

She nodded. “Yes, he did.”

“I figured.” They reached the meal hall. He waited to continue until they’d received a plate of food each and found a relatively quiet seat. “Your father used to lead the knights, didn’t he? And I hear he was a legendary mercenary as well. It must have been hard on your mother when you followed in your father’s footsteps and became a mercenary too.” 

He watched Byleth take a gulp of her tea, her face still expressionless and impossible to read. “I never knew my mother,” she stated simply. 

“I see. I suppose you grew up moving from battlefield to battlefield with your father, then.” He tried to picture it, but it made his heart heavy. “You know, for someone who’s right around the same age as me, you sure do have an unusual amount of composure. I guess it’s only natural that you’d be different from young nobles who grew up in the lap of luxury.” 

He went to take a bite of his food, and had to put his fork down to cover a yawn. 

“You don’t seem like a noble, either,” Byleth told him as he picked up his fork again. 

Claude laughed kindly. “Well, even so, I  _ am _ heir to House Riegan, the leading family of the Alliance. But…” He paused to take a sip of his own tea. “I didn’t exactly grow up in luxury like most people of noble blood. Maybe that’s why you and I get along so well.” 

Silence fell between them for a minute or so while they ate. Claude broke it again. 

“Folks like us should stick together. As house leader, I’ll do all I can to help you out. We can start by making time for more little chats like this.” 

Byleth nodded while she chewed. “That sounds good.” She took another sip of her tea. “Thank you, Claude.” 

He gave her a smile and a wink, and was interrupted from his meal again by a jaw-cracking yawn. 

“Are you okay? You seem tired today.” 

The little knot in her brows was back.  _ That must be what concern looks like. _

“Yeah, I’ll be okay,” he answered her. “I just got caught up in a book and went to bed way too late.” 

“At least you’ll sleep well tonight. We’ve got a full day of training ahead of us.” 

“Excellent.” He pushed out of his seat. “See you in class?” 

“I’m going to receive our mission for this moon first, but I won’t be long.” 

  
  


* * *

  
  


“Claude? Are you sure you’re going to be okay?” 

He fought back yet another yawn, desperate to pay attention and put in more effort. They’d learned this morning that they were being tasked this moon with driving a band of thieves out of the nearby Red Canyon.  _ Real, life or death combat. What kind of school is this?  _ The knights would be doing most of the work, but it was their job to put an end to the operation. 

“I’m really sorry, Teach. I slept  _ really _ terribly last night.” 

“We all have our days. Maybe it would be a good idea to skip on your reading tonight, though,” she teased him. 

“Very funny, Teach.” 

He began to work through his drills again. Who was the woman in his dream? He realized as Byleth walked away from him that her haircut and her gait were similar to what he’d seen.  _ Her hair’s the wrong colour though.  _ Was _ what I saw a dream, or was it a vision of the future? Or maybe it was just an overactive imagination. Wishful thinking, more like.  _

The crash of weapons and shouts of exertion brought him back to present. He used it to ground himself, and began his drills from the start again. 

_ You can worry about this when you aren’t training to save your life, Claude.  _

  
  


* * *

  
  


Claude heaved a heavy sigh as he watched the other students come to terms with their day. 

Their assignment for the moon was successfully completed. The leader of this band of thieves was the same man who had attacked them the first night that Claude met Byleth. Claude had thought that Byleth killed him before, but she had  _ definitely _ made sure of it this time. 

“This is going to be ugly, but it’s an unfortunate necessity,” she’d explained as they congregated around her and the dead leader. They all watched as Byleth pulled a knife from her boot and cut the dead leader’s throat, deep. More blood pooled out, but slowly; his heart had already been stopped for a number of minutes. She wiped her dagger clean on an unsoiled section of the man’s clothes before sheathing it in her boot again. “There will be fights where the only resolution is in the death of your enemy. In those cases, it’s best not to take any chances. Ideally, we should take time to go through and cut all the enemies’ throats, otherwise one of them may survive and want to exact revenge, but we’ll leave that to the Knights’ discretion.” 

Now, they were waiting around as the Knights did a final sweep of the Canyon. No one was speaking with each other. They all looked hollow and haunted. 

_ We all know it’s a reality we have to face, but none of us ever wanted to.  _

“Professor?” It was one of the Knights who spoke. 

“Yes?” 

“All is clear. We can return to the monastery now.” 

“Understood,” Byleth answered him. “Alright, class. Time to go.” 

There was no response other than the shuffling of feet as the students followed the Knight back the way he’d come. 

Claude started to follow, but noticed that Byleth had turned away from them. She was standing a few steps away, doing that thing she did where she rested her right elbow on her left palm, and then her chin on her right fist. She stood that way for ten or fifteen seconds before she straightened up as if shocked. She shook her head from side to side at seemingly nothing, then stared at the ground, then looked around slowly, taking in the view. 

_ She looks like she’s having a conversation with someone, but there’s no one else there. Is she okay? _

He looked behind himself to see where the other students were. They weren’t too far ahead, but the Knights hadn’t waited for them. 

_ I’d better go fetch her before they leave us behind. _

He walked over to where Byleth was standing. She was still taking in the sights, but looking away from him. 

“Teach? What are you doing here? We should get back to the Academy.” 

She turned to face him sharply as soon as he started speaking. Her eyes looked glassy. She nodded at him once in agreement, but then her eyes seemed to glaze over even more. She made no effort to move. 

He was about to say something else, but her gaze shifted to the ground and away from him. He was starting to grow concerned. Was she okay? Had one of the thieves hit her in the head? He’d been close to her the entire fight, and he could have sworn she was fine… 

“I’m going to catch up with the rest of the class. Don’t fall too far behind, okay, Teach?” 

She didn’t seem to hear him. He watched her shaking her head again. 

_ What is going on with her today? Do I leave her? Do I- _

“Hm? Sorry, Claude. I’m coming.” 

She was blinking rapidly when she looked at him again. Her eyes were clear and alert again, and she gestured for him to go ahead of him. 

They didn’t speak the rest of the trip back to the monastery. She’d developed a little furrow in her brow, though, by the time they returned. 

He stopped her in the entrance hall. “Hey, Teach. On the way back, you seemed transfixed by the canyon. Did something happen there?” 

“Actually…” Byleth sighed deeply. “I can’t explain it, Claude. That place… I’m sure I’ve never been there before, but it felt so familiar to me.” 

“It seemed familiar to you?” he repeated, surprised. He held his head in his hand, combing his fingers into his hair. “Huh. Can’t say the same. Maybe it’s a memory from when you were a child. Or from a past life. Anyway, if you can’t remember, I guess there isn’t really much more to be said… although, I’ll admit, there is something about that canyon that has me captivated, as well.” 

Byleth’s head tipped to the side. He’d learned that when she did that, it often meant the same as when someone would raise an eyebrow in silent question. 

“How did Zanado come to be called the Red Canyon? Nothing there… was actually red…”

Byleth simply stared at him for a few seconds before shaking her head. “I feel like it was a place of peace, but generally, calling someplace ‘red’ means it’s seen bloodshed, doesn’t it? And the ruins seemed to be more akin to war-torn than to being worn down over time.” 

“That’s an interesting theory,” Claude answered. His mind was spinning with the possibilities.  _ Maybe that’s the lead I need. Maybe this is the clue I’m missing.  _

“Anyway… good work today, Claude. I need to go report to Rhea.” 

“Better get to it, then, Teach. You don’t want to leave her waiting.” 

_ And I had best make a trip up to the library.  _

  
  


* * *

  
  


_ So, the Goddess came to Fódlan by way of Zanado. She used to personally offer salvation to the people here before making Seiros her mouthpiece. I knew that already. Why doesn’t anything talk about Zanado’s history outside of that? Was it a civilization? Just a holy resting place? If it had seen a war, surely there would be a record  _ somewhere.  _ How is there no mention at all of the Sword in any of this?  _

Claude had been researching for  _ weeks _ since they’d been to Zanado, and come up empty-handed. He was starting to get very frustrated. Something was going on with this, and he just couldn’t put his finger on what it was. 

Last moon, they’d helped Catherine and the Knights subdue a rebellion incited by Lord Lonato of Faerghus. Seeing Catherine in action with Thunderbrand had been an enlightening experience. 

After the battle, he’d mentioned the legend associated with the Sword of the Creator to Byleth. She didn’t seem to have heard it before. 

_ “Oh, it’s nothing,”  _ he’d told her that day.  _ “Just the usual fanciful nonsense. An ancient Relic that once cut a mountain in half in a single swing. That’s what they say, anyway. But as amazing as Thunderbrand is, I don’t think it fits that description.” _

Her surprised stare was just another stone wall in his path toward answers. 

Just a few minutes later, Catherine had informed them that she’d found a note on Lord Lonato’s corpse that referenced a plot to assassinate Rhea on the day of the Goddess’ Rite of Rebirth. 

The ritual was happening tomorrow. 

Claude was grateful to have Byleth with him for this one. Something immediately seemed off to him, and thankfully, she’d been on the same page from the start. They’d determined that someone was trying to get down into the Holy Mausoleum, and they would make sure that whatever happened, there would be consequences for anyone with the wrong idea down there. 

  
  


* * *

  
  


_No! How are we too late?_ _Curses upon that knight!_

The masked mage pushed the lid on the coffin askew and reached inside as Byleth ran forward at a full sprint, her sword in hand, ready to cut him down. He reached inside and spun around, a sword held clumsily in both of his hands, as he hoped to hold Byleth off. 

Claude’s eyes went wide with shock, his jaw starting to hang slack. He felt winded, like Raphael had just punched him full force square in the chest. 

_ That’s… that’s it. Fuck me, that’s  _ it! __

Byleth swung upward at the sword in the mage’s hands. The mage, clearly unfamiliar with the weapon, lost his grip on it, sending it flying up into the air. It came spinning back down, and Byleth caught it effortlessly in her off hand. 

She spared it only a second for a glance, before she noticed the mage building a Fire spell between his palms. He sent it hurtling her way, and Claude, on instinct nocked an arrow- 

Only to freeze in place when the Sword cut the Fire spell away and began to glow red. 

_ It’s - she’s compatible? How is she compatible? What is  _ happening?!

His arms fell loose to his sides as he watched. She looked it up and down again, one more time. The glow cast shadows on her face where her brow furrowed. 

Claude had never seen Byleth radiate power the way she did in that moment. 

The mage, in his desperation, threw another Fire spell at her. She cut that one apart just as effortlessly, then stood tall and stared the man down. He stumbled backward, away from her, falling on the steps behind him. 

She started to walk forward as he got back on his feet, casting a shielding spell of some sort in a last-ditch survival effort. Byleth tossed her iron sword on the ground, grabbed the Sword of the Creator in both hands, and charged, swinging the blade down on the mage’s shield with all of her incredible strength. 

The shield began to crack, and then, in mere seconds, it shattered like glass. The Sword sank into the space the shield was in, and Byleth wasted no time in swinging it back around, almost cutting the enemy mage clean in half in one swipe. 

Silence settled in the Mausoleum as the mage crumpled to the floor. Shock still flooded through Claude. He couldn’t take his eyes off of Byleth and the Sword in her hand. 

It cooled and stopped glowing as she relaxed. She took a better look at it now that the enemy was dead, seeming to fixate on the hilt. It was hard for Claude to see in the dim lighting, but it looked like it was missing its Crest Stone.  _ If it doesn’t have one, then how is it reacting as if it does?  _

He followed Byleth with the rest of the class in a daze.  _ It was in the Mausoleum this whole time? What was it doing in Seiros’ tomb? Seiros never wielded it.  _

_ The Sword may have been found, but now I just have even more questions.  _

The class loitered in the cathedral a bit to catch their breath, and so were able to watch Catherine and the knights bring up the remaining forces. From there, they decided to wait to witness Rhea sentence the conspirators to death before filing out to return to their classroom. 

The group was quiet as they gathered in the middle of the room, facing Claude and Byleth. 

“Well,” Claude started, breaking the uncomfortable silence, “I suppose that’s that. The assassinationn attempt, the attack on the Holy Mausoleum… looks like it was all a plot by the Western Church.” 

Looking around the room, he could see that most of them didn’t buy the validity of that conclusion. He couldn’t blame them, because neither could he. Something larger was at play here. The Western Church had been roped in and scapegoated, the same way Lord Lonato had been. 

“It’s just too bad that that masked knight who was leading the attack got away. Vanished without a trace.”

“But why would the Western Church want to attack Lady Rhea?” Hilda asked. 

“Why? Take your pick of reasons. Relations with the Western Church aren’t exactly friendly,” Claude reminded her. 

“What reasons?” Byleth asked quietly.

“Oh, that’s right,” Claude muttered to himself. He recalled a rare conversation with her father, back when they were fairly new to the monastery. Jeralt had mentioned that she grew up completely isolated from the church.  “The Church of Seiros is split up into a few different branches across Fódlan. The Central Church is headquartered right here at Garreg Mach. Then there’s the Western Church. Far west from Castle Gaspard, where Lord Lonato had his little rebellion, is the Fortress City of Arianrhod. It’s the strongest fortress in the Kindgdom. On the other side of it is the headquarters of the Western Church.”

Hilda interrupted him. “Not too smart to bicker with people who worship the same goddess as you.” 

“The bishop of the Western Church must be pretty ambitious. Probably hopes to split off completely. In which case, he’d need to weaken the Central Church’s influence. Killing Rhea is certainly one way to do that.” Claude paused to take in a deep breath. “To the shock of no one, I heard the knights have already been sent to subdue the leaders of the Western Church. We’ll probably get a chance to assist.” 

Silence settled over the room again for a moment before Hilda broke it. “You’re an odd one, aren’t you, Professor? How’d you make it this far in life without  _ ever _ interacting with the church? I can’t believe someone like you exists in Fódlan. It’s too strange!” 

“If you think that’s weird, consider the fact that Rhea hired Teach despite all that.” 

“So, those guys they caught… they all got the axe, right?” Raphael put his face in his palm and shook his head. “That’s brutal.”

Lysithea finally looked up from the floor for a brief moment. “Lady Rhea can be rather intimidating at times. In fact… she can be downright terrifying.” 

“Professor.” Everyone turned to look at Marianne as she spoke. She looked more haunted than the rest. “Those who cannot be saved must be delivered to the goddess for judgement. Is that not so?” 

Before there was time for Byleth to respond, a voice rang out behind them. “There you are, Professor.” 

Seteth stopped just shy of joining their group. Everyone else in the room turned their attention to him. 

“It seems Lady Rhea would like a word with you. Come with me.” 

Claude immediately turned to look back at Byleth, but she was calm. “Take the rest of the day to yourselves. I’ll see you all tomorrow,” she instructed them. With that, she nodded to Seteth, who led her out of the room. 

Claude watched their departure until they were long out of sight. Rhea would likely take the Sword away from her; it was a Relic of extremely high historic value. What sense did it make to let a teacher with no understanding of the significance of what she’d found keep it? 

“I need some air,” he announced to the others. “I’m going to take some time for myself this evening. I’ll see you all tomorrow, too.” 

He didn’t wait for an answer before following the path that Byleth had taken out of the door. 

  
  


* * *

  
  


He sat alone in the bathhouse, getting more and more irritated with himself for not being able to put the equation together. 

_ It responded to her. She’s compatible.  _ How or why, he couldn’t figure out. Unless…  _ The only way that she has a compatible crest is if she’s descended from Nemesis himself. But there are no records of him having children of his own. How is he supposed to have passed his crest on, then?  _

_ And besides that, there’s no Crest Stone in that Sword. It shouldn’t be responding at  _ all _ without one - and there's space for one, too. Maybe, because it’s the ultimate Relic, it has different properties?  _

He continued to puzzle over it for a while longer in the bath, before he started to yawn. The exhaustion of the day caught up with him quickly. 

_ Why did Rhea let her keep it?  _

There was a defeated slouch to Claude’s shoulders as he descended the stairs from the bath house to the dorms. He was too focused on his thoughts to notice Byleth wandering by to her room, in sweaty athletic wear, the Sword still firmly grasped in her hand. 


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Minor language warning for section 4  
> Minor violence warning for section 5

They had a few days of normalcy before receiving their next assignment. 

Claude had tried his best to keep up in classes, but he was distracted, his attention fractured by irritation and frustration at his own ineptitude. Byleth tried a couple of times to check in with him, but he just couldn’t seem to get the words out. He became so focused on finding his answers that he started to shut everyone out, becoming snappy and unapproachable. 

The morning that she went to receive their next assignment, he ran into her in the reception hall as she returned to the campus. When he saw her walk out with the Sword on her hip, something in him seemed to crack a little. 

“Hey, Teach. I gotta say, I never would’ve guessed you were a descendant of the King of Liberation.” 

Her brow furrowed a bit. Concern, he recognized it as now. 

“You didn’t forget, did you? That story I told you, about a Relic that could cut a mountain in half? That Relic _was_ the Sword of the Creator. The very same used by Nemesis, the King of Liberation.” 

She shook her head slowly at him. “I am not his descendant.” 

Claude scoffed. “Don’t be coy, Teach. The Sword of the Creator could only be wielded by Nemesis. If you can use it too, that can only mean you have that bloodline’s Crest.” 

The furrow in her brow deepened. “I don’t understand.” 

Claude sighed in frustration and threw his hands in the air. “Fine, keep your secrets. But just so you know, _I don’t understand_ isn’t going to cut it here at the monastery.”

He watched as the furrow in her brow softened. Her shoulders seemed to slump a little. Claude took in a more steadying breath before he continued. 

“Speaking of, Professor Hanneman has been looking for you. He probably wants to examine your Crest with those crazy instruments of his. Actually…” _This could be enlightening._ “Sounds amusing. Maybe I’ll tag along.” 

“Aw, if it isn’t my little Claude! What has you so worked up?” 

Claude’s heart jumped into his throat at the sound of that voice, leaving him with a slightly anxious feeling in his stomach. 

“Judith?! What are you doing here?” 

“That’s _Lady_ Judith to you, boy. I told you, until you’re in charge, I expect you to address me with all due respect.” She simply looked at him for a moment, making him slightly more uncomfortable. “Anyway, I’m here to retrieve you. Duke Riegan’s condition has taken a turn for the worse.” 

Claude’s chest constricted on hearing that. _Didn’t know I cared so much._ “Are you saying the old man’s on his deathbed?” 

“No, it’s not that bad,” Judith assured him. “But in the state he’s in, he won’t be able to participate in the next round table conference. He wants you to go in his stead. I volunteered to play the messenger.” 

“Well, thanks for that,” Claude responded dryly. His tone was still sour. “Oh, and Teach, this is Judith. Also known as the Hero of House Daphnel.” 

Byleth looked between the two of them a few times quickly before settling on Judith. 

“So you’re little Claude’s teacher, are you? How much trouble has he been giving you?” 

“Plenty,” Byleth quipped. Her eyes always narrowed just the tiniest bit when she was joking. 

Claude inserted himself back into the conversation before Judith could get a word in edgewise. “If her nickname didn’t give it away, you should know that Judith - er, _Lady_ Judith - is the leader of the famous House Daphnel of the Leicester Alliance. She _used_ to be a big deal at the roundtable conferences, but it seems of late she’s been reduced to a mere-”

“You had better shut that mouth before I put my boot in it, you tactless nuisance,” Judith threatened. “Now, come on. Let’s get going. Sorry, Professor, but I need to borrow the boy for a bit.” 

Claude sighed again. “I suppose we’ll have to finish our chat later. Sorry, Teach. But don’t you worry. I’ll be back before our next mission.” He turned his attention to Judith. “All right, _Judith_. Let’s get going.” 

“It’s _Lady_ \- Ah, I suppose you _are_ the active leader for the time being,” he heard her say as he began to walk away. “Fair enough, boy. Fair enough.” 

He kept a short enough pace that Judith could catch up easily. “I need to pack a bag quickly. I won’t be long.” 

“I’ll wait for you here.” 

Claude half-ran back to his room and hastily threw together a bag. He felt… drained. Tired. He was in no state to participate in a roundtable like this. But as he shouldered his pack and headed back toward where Judith was waiting for him, his trepidation gave way to excitement. This would be a nice break from things for a little while. 

Besides… sometimes, a chat with his mother was all he needed. 

  
  


* * *

  
  


“I just _can’t figure it out,_ ” he complained, dropping his spoon into his bowl of stew and staring at Judith. He was sure he looked half-crazed, rambling on about Byleth, and the Sword, and Zanado. “It’s driving me _crazy_ . And Teach’s indifference to the whole thing _isn’t helping_.” 

“You’re looking too deep into it, boy, expecting the answers to jump just because you said _please_ ,” Judith answered him kindly. “It sounds like she truly just… doesn’t know. You can’t fault her for that. If you think _you’re_ confused, imagine how _she’s_ feeling. These things are all happening to her, and she has no real idea what any of it means.” 

Claude sighed, his shoulders finally dropping the tension that had been resting in them for at least a moon. “You’re right.” 

“And it’s not fair to her to get upset with her for things she’s already confused about. If she doesn’t understand, then she doesn’t understand. You’re better at reading people than to think she was lying to you when she said that.” 

Claude nodded in agreement. Silence settled over them for a moment, and then Judith took his stew bowl from him. She set it aside gently, then wrapped her arm around his waist and drew him into her side. He leaned on her shoulder. 

“You’ve got what it takes to change the world, baby boy. Neither Fódlan nor Almyra will soon forget your name. But you can’t rush this. It will all come together in its own time.” 

Claude took in a few deep breaths. He felt better than he had in weeks. “Thanks, Mother.” 

“Your father and I are always here for you.” She took her hand from his waist and started to comb through his hair with her fingers, careful to avoid the section that was pulled into his braid. “Oh, the fire of youth. It’s so wasted on the young.”

Claude gave her a small laugh. “I just want to make the world a better place. I’m tired of being surrounded by prejudice and anger and hate.” 

“I know you do. But we both know that doesn’t happen overnight.” 

Silence fell between them comfortably for a few minutes. Claude broke it. “She’s a great teacher. You’d be impressed.” 

“You sound like you’ve taken a real shining to her.”

Something in the tone of Judith’s voice made him pull away to look at her. She had one of those little coy grins on her face. “And just what is _that_ supposed to mean?” 

“Just that you seem to care for her, that’s all. Perhaps more as a friend than an authority figure.” 

He could feel the warmth in his face as she said that. He stared at the fire, determined not to look at her. He’d taken his talent for reading people from her, after all, and he never could hide anything from her. 

She was right on that point, too. He was really starting to see Byleth as a friend, and a good one, at that. He felt lighter and yet stronger in her presence. He seemed to seek her out without trying to when he had any sort of want or need. 

He worried about how she was faring with the other students without his help. 

“Who knows… maybe she’s the last piece of the solution to your problem,” Judith added. 

Claude nodded absently. “She’s something else, that’s for sure. But I think you might be right about that, too.” 

He yawned widely, and leaned back into Judith’s shoulder. She put her arm around his waist again, her opposite arm crossing in front of him and circling him in a loose hug. “Bedtime soon.” 

He nodded. “How _is_ Grandfather?” 

“Excited to see you. Aside from that, it’s hard to say. You know how he is.” She rested her cheek on the top of his head. “I think he intends to join us, but you’ll be doing most of the work. He’s very proud of you, you know.” 

“Well, I’d better get some rest so I can be ready for tomorrow, then. I’d hate to disappoint him.” He yawned again. Judith let him go so he could stand up. “You should sleep too. It’s been a long day.” 

“I will, soon enough.” 

“Wake me up if you need anything.” 

Judith nodded at him. He stretched, and then made his way over to his bedroll, wasting no time in getting settled in for the night. 

_If today was long, tomorrow will be even longer._

* * *

He arrived back at the monastery about two and a half weeks after he left. 

It was around lunchtime when he got back. The monastery grounds were emptier than usual; it was just about the busiest point of the meal service. He could likely make it up to his room almost entirely undetected by anyone super important. 

A part of him wanted to head in for lunch, though he wasn’t hungry, to see how Byleth was doing. But he’d be back into the swing of things again tomorrow, and would likely see her at dinner, anyway. It was a perfect opportunity to take the afternoon to himself, hopefully uninterrupted, to try making a new variant on one of his poisons. 

He made it to his room unaccosted. He dropped his bag off his shoulder as soon as he entered, closing the door behind himself. 

_I really need to hit the bathhouse tonight,_ he thought to himself as he stripped down to change into clean clothes. He was a little ripe, and he felt all gritty from the road. He took a quick look around his room, to make sure his things were all still there, and noticed that his washbowl was full of clean water, and still sitting over mostly-cold coals. 

He tested the water with a finger. _Still warm enough._ _It’s not ideal, but it’ll help._

He grabbed the nearby cloth and soap, giving himself a quick once-over to help get rid of the worst of the smell before drying off and putting on a clean set of clothes. He pulled out his alchemy equipment on autopilot when he was done dressing, along with the provisions he’d need, and then got to work. 

Claude felt calm, for the first time in weeks. Sure, he hadn’t figured out the answers to all of his questions, but his mother was right. There was no sense rushing things right now. One thing at a time, one day at a time. 

His work took a couple of hours. He had to make sure he regulated the temperature of the coals, helping them refuel with a little bit of scrap paper, to distill the verona properly. The Morfis plum needed to be ground to a very precise consistency and amount, and would need to be muddled with the cedar needles within a very short window in order to ensure they reacted properly. 

He was so focused on making sure his verona was properly distilled that he missed the first knock on the door. It wasn’t until he was pouring it to mix with the rest of the ingredients that he heard it, accompanied by a familiar voice on the other side. 

“Claude? Are you there?” 

“Oh, hey Teach! Come on in.” 

His hinges creaked a little as the door opened. He didn’t turn around to see her walk in; by now, he could recognize just the sound of her boots as they walked toward him. 

“Hold on a minute, okay? I’m gonna have this cleaned up in no time.” 

“What are you doing?” she asked as he gave one last quick swirl and poured his little mixture from the bowl into a small glass phial. As it hit the bottom of the phial and rolled, the extra air turned it from a muddy colour to water-clear. 

“I came across a fascinating book about poisons, and so I wanted to try mixing one up myself. Aaaaand…” He pushed the cork in the top and gave the bottle one last tiny little shake. “Done!” 

He spun around and showed her the little bottle. She was as expressionless as ever, but she studied it for a few seconds before returning her attention to him. “What do you think of that, Teach? A colourless, odourless poison! Say… care to test it out for me?” 

She shrugged. “Sure.” 

“Whoa, really?!” He laughed a little at her recklessness. “Actually, I was just kidding. If you drink this, in two days’ time, you’ll have terrible… um… let’s call it stomach trouble.” 

She didn’t answer him, instead tipping her head to the side and shifting her weight on her feet. 

“I hear your silent question, Teach. Why the delay? That’s so it can be used even if you don’t have access to the target when you need the poison to take effect.” He was quite proud of himself for this one. 

His heart skipped a beat at the concern knitting her brows together. She looked like she was struggling to find words. 

A nervous chuckle escaped him. “Um, naturally, I have no immediate plans for this stuff! I suppose I just felt like broadening the ol’ horizons a bit.” He sighed. His trip to Derdriu had taken a lot out of him. He wished he’d thought to do this sooner; the round table would have been a _great_ deal easier if Lorenz’s father weren’t there. 

Byleth still looked confused. 

“When devising schemes, it’s best to have as many options at your disposal as possible,” Claude explained. “Expanding those options is kind of a hobby for me.” 

She shook her head absently. “Why such a dangerous hobby?” 

“Well, I grew up in an environment where it was necessary to think that way.” Memories of his childhood raced through his mind, not unlike flipping rapidly through a picture book. He started to clean up his equipment as he spoke, suddenly desperate to have something to do with his hands. “It’s like I told you before. I wasn’t born into a life of luxury. Ever since I was a child, I’ve always been seen as… _different_ from those around me. An outsider of sorts.” 

He turned around to pick up the towel off his bed, and she had it held out to him. “Thanks,” he murmured. He put it away before continuing. “I’ve been resented and hated. There have even been attempts on my life! I don’t believe I’ve earned such treatment, but that’s how it goes for people like me.” 

Silence fell between them for a moment. He turned his back to Byleth so he could finish cleaning up his desk. It was a nice feeling, to be able to share this. Maybe it would help her understand him better. 

“I don’t think of you as an outsider.” 

Her voice and her words, though gentle, rang like warhorns through the silence in his room. He swallowed past a lump that had suddenly formed in his throat, but found himself smiling. Genuinely. 

“Thanks, Teach.” He stopped what he was doing and turned to give her his full attention again. “You know, in many ways I’m just a normal person like everyone else. But in the right environment, anyone could be seen as an outsider. It can become… overwhelming. That’s why I kept running. Kept fighting. As a kid, I spent a lot of time licking my wounds and coming up with schemes, trying to keep my nose out of trouble while plotting against my enemies. My parents always told me I wouldn’t grow stronger if I didn’t learn to fight my own battles.” 

Byleth laughed that little airy laugh of hers and nodded. _Seems she’s heard that one before, too. Just another thing in common._

“And so, in the end, I did. And I grew up to be as independent and self-reliant as my parents always wished for me to be.” He turned on his heel and sat on his bed, resting his elbows on his knees. “Lucky me, right?” 

Byleth sat next to him and mimicked his pose. She looked at her hands as she spoke. “You’ve been through a lot.” 

Claude chuckled. “If anyone knows what I’m talking about, it must be you, eh, Teach? I get the feeling you know what it’s like to be an outsider.” 

He was looking at her. She stared at her hands until he stopped speaking again, then looked up at him out of the corner of her eye and nodded. There was an intimacy in the way she looked at him, like an old friend. He found it a little hard to breathe. 

“The moment I first laid eyes on you, I knew you weren’t like everyone else,” he admitted to her. “People don’t care for folks like that. You’d do well to watch your back. On the bright side, that’s also part of the reason that _I_ find you so interesting.” 

One corner of her mouth tipped upward ever-so-slightly, but she didn’t respond, instead hanging her head to study the floor. “It’s good to have you back. How did the round table go?” 

“Oof. This wasn’t the first time I’ve taken part in an Alliance round table conference, but it was still exhausting. There’s not enough cooperation in that group, especially from Lorenz’s father.” 

“The apple usually doesn’t fall far from the tree.” 

Claude nodded in agreement. “At least my grandfather was surprisingly alert. Judging by that, I’d say he’s got at least five more years in him.” 

“That’s good.” Silence fell between them again for a minute or so before Byleth pushed herself back up onto her feet. “I’m sorry I disturbed you, Claude. I just wanted to say hello and see how you were doing.” 

“I’m always happy to see you, Teach.” He stood too, and clapped her on the shoulder. “I’ll see you soon at dinner.” 

“Sounds good. If you’re up for it, I’ll get you caught up on this moon’s assignment while we eat.” 

“Perfect.” He took his hand back and followed her to the door. She dipped her head at him as she left, and he watched her go for a moment before closing his door behind her. 

He decided to go take a proper bath, focusing too hard on the task in order to take his mind off the strange feeling in his chest as he watched Byleth leave. 

  
  


* * *

  
  


Claude didn’t see Sylvain until he arrived in the classroom the next morning. 

He had his head down, talking quietly with Ashe. Claude walked right up and plunked himself down in a seat next to them. 

“Oh, hi, Claude,” Ashe said as Claude took a seat. 

“Hey,” he answered. “Sylvain? How’re you doing?” 

Sylvain shook his head. “My older brother is a piece of shit, Claude.” 

Claude blinked rapidly a few times and nodded. “So you’re okay. I just wanted to see how you were taking it.” 

Sylvain sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. “I mean… he’s still my brother. But he’s taken it too far. Something has to be done. He’s tried to kill me before, lots of times, so I guess it’s time to return the favour.” 

The sounds of boots on the stone floor made them all look up. 

“Good morning, boys.” 

“Hey, Teach,” Claude answered, before turning back to Sylvain. “Look, I know your friends are mostly still in the Lions, but I’m your House leader here. Let me know if you need anything.” 

“Thanks.” 

Claude’s opinion on Sylvain had changed drastically since he’d transferred into the Deer. In a way, he was everything Lorenz wished he could be: handsome, flattering, talented with words (or his tongue, if you prefer; Sylvain had a pretty strong reputation around the school). The big difference was in Sylvain’s strange brand of humility. Claude had listened to Sylvain ply his trade a few times before, and truly, the man was a master at paying compliments of all kinds. But he was also hard-working and loyal to his friends and teammates, always ready to do what it took to help and to make people feel happier. 

_What did his brother do to get himself disowned?_ Claude thought to himself as he took his usual seat, before remembering that House Gautier belonged to the Kingdom. _What a vicious system. Who can just throw away a child because of something they have no control over?_

It put a whole new light on Sylvain’s behaviour, actually. If one looked closely enough, it was no secret that Sylvain hated his Crest and his status. He used it as leverage frequently, but in the instances that Claude witnessed him talking about it, he could almost feel the self-loathing and disgust at how people responded to it. 

_Better keep an eye on him,_ Claude promised himself. _He’s prideful. Might not reach out for help if he needs it._

The rest of the class filed in shortly after. 

“Alright, everyone,” Byleth started. “I made a stop by the training grounds before coming to class today, and no one has any time slots booked, so I may or may not have booked it out for the whole day.”

The sound of shuffling papers and closing books sounded all around him. Why anyone bothered to take books out before knowing the day’s plans was beyond Claude. 

“This moon’s assignment will not be an easy one, so we’d best get in as much training as possible. Anyone need anything before we head out?” She was met with silence. “Excellent. Let’s be on our way, then.” 

* * *

Claude made every attempt to take deep, slow breaths that he could, but fear still coursed through him, stronger than he’d ever felt before. 

He watched as Sylvain ran to his brother’s side. Miklan was definitely dead. It was a blessing that he’d returned to his normal, human form, though. He couldn’t imagine mourning a sibling that had turned into one of _those_ horrific things. 

Miklan had turned into a _monster_. Was that the true power of the Relics? 

_It’s no wonder Nemesis went mad with the power, then. Maybe it’s a good thing I_ didn’t _find the Sword on my own._

There was a hollow, glassy look to Byleth’s eyes again. She gave Sylvain a couple of minutes with his brother while she checked to make sure the rest of the class was okay. 

“Keep an eye out?” she asked him as she passed by. 

“You got it, Teach.” 

He watched as she knelt next to Sylvain and put a hand on the back of his shoulder. He looked at her, then back down at his brother. He laid Miklan back down gently, then pounded the stone floor with his fist once before hanging his head. Byleth’s arm snaked across his back in a one-armed hug. 

Claude turned away to give them some privacy, scanning the room. Hilda looked like she was an inch from death herself, her gaze glued to Sylvain and Byleth. _No doubt imagining if that were her own brother. I wonder if he has their Relic?_

“Let’s go.” Sylvain’s voice rang in the suddenly too-quiet tower after only a minute or two. 

Claude spun to watch him and Byleth join the group again. He sniffled loudly, drying his face with his free hand. He had the Lance of Ruin in his other hand, but he held it like it physically pained him. Despite that, the tip glowed a healthy red, indicating his compatibility. He looked like he wanted to pass it off to Byleth, but then looked behind himself at his brother’s corpse on the floor, and thought better of it. 

It was nice to see the class come together to support Sylvain, though. Not once did they leave him to his own devices on the way back to the monastery, and he was even laughing and joking again by the time the cathedral was back in sight. 

Byleth, however, had isolated herself a little. Her eyes were glassy again. Claude had figured out all of her little subtle tells, now, and she was doing that thing again where she looked like she was having one side of a conversation. 

“You alright, Teach?” he asked quietly as they arrived back at the monastery. 

“I’m okay,” she lied. “I need to report to Rhea. Will you keep an eye on Sylvain for me?” 

“Of course, Teach. Whatever you need.” 

“Thank you.” She didn’t even look at him as she left. She made a quick stop to talk to Sylvain herself, though, and he passed the Lance to her finally with a look of trepidation. 

She walked away with it, alone, and Sylvain seemed to lose a weight off his shoulders. 

“Hey, Ashe?” 

“Hm? Oh, was that you, Claude?”

“Yeah. Teach wants me to keep an eye on Sylvain. You know him far better than I do. Will he be okay?” 

Ashe nodded. “Yeah, I think so.” 

“Good. If anyone needs me, I’ll be in the library.” 

He spent hours that night, staying longer than any other student, poring over tome after tome after tome once more, looking for some hint of an explanation for what had happened. It wasn’t until the wee hours in the early morning, well past recommended student curfew, that he finally gathered himself to leave. 

Just as Byleth was walking in toward him. 

He yawned widely, covering his mouth as she came to a stop a few feet ahead of him. “Nice work, Teach. It’s thanks to you that we successfully completed our mission. As for Miklan… I wonder if he really believed he could wield a Relic.” 

“I doubt it,” Byleth responded, shaking her head slowly. 

“Agreed. He probably just wanted to get his hands on it, even though he knew it was futile. Though I’m sure he wasn’t counting on turning into a monster like that…” 

He looked up at Byleth, who was making slightly haunted eye contact with him. It communicated a lot more than words ever could. 

“I wonder if that monster represents another aspect of the Heroes’ Relics. What a strange and terrifying power.” 

Byleth’s voice was even quieter than before. It sounded weary. “It seems so.” 

“Stories of misfortune have followed the Heroes’ Relics since ancient times.” 

Both Claude and Byleth started, looking toward the sound of the new voice. Standing next to them was Tomas, the librarian. 

“Tomas!” Claude breathed in deeply and shook his head rapidly to calm his racing heart. “You’ve caught me by surprise. That’s not easy to do. Though, I suppose I should’ve expected to see our librarian in his library.” 

Tomas smiled kindly, but somehow, there was little warmth in it. “I am sorry to intrude. I simply heard you speaking of the Heroes’ Relics. I can tell you more about them, if you’d like.” 

Claude shared a brief look with Byleth before nodding. 

“The story goes that Nemesis was corrupted by evil because of the Sword of the Creator,” Tomas went on. “Other Heroes also lost themselves by continuing to use the Relics… transforming into Black Beasts with twisted souls. There used to be a great many records regarding the dark history of the Relics.” 

“ _Used_ to be?” Claude shared another glance with Byleth. Her brow was knotted, her gaze fixed on Tomas. 

“They have been destroyed, across all of Fódlan. Stripped from their shelves, including those that resided at this very library.” 

Claude kept his voice low. “You make it sound like the church is covering up the truth." But, now that he mentioned it, Rhea was _very_ specific about not wanting anyone to find out what happened at Conand Tower. Other thoughts raced through his mind, too quickly to unravel at this time of night. All save for one, anyway. “Hey, Tomas… why are you telling us all this?”

Tomas’ eyebrows shot up in surprise. “It seemed like you were searching for answers about the Relics. What is a librarian if not a guide in the search for knowledge? And not only have you been searching, but you have been doing so through the night. I would suggest you stop before the knights notice.” 

Tomas paused to let Claude feel the shame of being caught. 

“And that is enough meddling for today. Please excuse me.” 

Claude and Byleth both watched Tomas saunter away, not saying anything until he was well out of sight. 

Claude heaved a sigh. “So, I’ve been found out, have I? I suppose I do spend more time at the library than most students. But I won’t stop. I can’t afford to.” 

Byleth fixed him with a rather curious gaze. Just when he thought he had all her expressions figured out, she came up with a new one. “What are you after?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper. 

“Teach,” Claude scoffed. “You don’t really expect me to tell you something so personal just like that, do you? Though I wouldn’t mind sharing, _if_ you were to tell me some of your secrets in exchange…” 

Byleth looked like she was about to respond, but this time, they caught the sound of footfalls approaching them. They turned together to see Edelgard stepping out of the shadows. 

“I can’t let this exchange pass without comment. If you’re sharing secrets, perhaps I can share one as well?”

Claude looked at her, careful to school his expression so his suspicion wouldn’t shine through. What was _she_ doing here at this time of the night?

“Are you sure you could survive that? I’d say you’re the _least_ likely to share secrets out of everyone at the academy,” he teased her.

She laughed. “Coming from you, I’ll take that as a compliment. After all, you’re easily the student with the _most_ secrets.” 

“I’m afraid you overestimate me. My secrets don’t amount to much,” he lied easily. “But back to Teach-”

“Don’t try to change the subject, Claude. We’re talking about secrets. Yours.” Edelgard was, through and through, an Emperor. “Who is your father? And why did you appear so suddenly, as if from nowhere? Duke Riegan’s eldest son died in an accident. Having tragically lost other family members as well, he was without an heir. The Alliance would undoubtedly have been shaken if House Riegan had lost its position of leadership. But then _you_ showed up. Why did you return to House Riegan? What brought you to the monastery?” 

Byleth cleared her throat. “He doesn’t have to answer to you.” 

Claude blinked a couple of times in shock at the defensive tone of her voice, a warm feeling blossoming in his chest. “Alas… To be surrounded by women as lovely as flowers, only to be pricked by their thorns,” he sighed dramatically. He could answer them, he knew, while not telling them anything. “My dream, in truth, is a selfless dream. But I require power to make it a reality. When I learned about the power of my Crest, I knew I had a chance. So… I’m chasing that dream. To the bitter end, if need be. And I came to this monastery because I thought I might find someone useful. Someone to help me on my path.” 

He received nothing but silence from the two women, and decided to continue. “So, what do you think? If you promise to help me achieve my dream no matter what, I’ll promise to tell you anything.” 

But Edelgard shook her head. “I have my own dream to tend to,” she admitted. “I pray that yours does not interfere with mine.” 

“What about you, Teach?”

“Well… if it’s a noble dream…” 

He smiled at her. “I see. Well, now isn’t the time to discuss this. You are still my Teach, after all.” 

Edelgard made a wordless noise of disapproval, and then dismissed herself, leaving Claude and Byleth alone once more. He yawned, reaching up to cover his mouth. 

“Looks like we have some Church secrets to dig up, anyway. Two heads are better than one, don’t they say? Maybe now you can - can-”

“We can come back to this in the morning,” Byleth told him as he yawned again. 

He shook his head rapidly a few times to shake the fog from his mind. “Yeah. Let’s go.” 

They descended from the second floor in silence. “Rhea said that I shouldn’t fall to the same fate as Miklan, because the sword chose me,” Byleth told him as they reached the bottom of the stairs. 

“Interesting,” Claude murmured. “Well, I wonder what else she knows and isn’t telling us.”

“I… I’m afraid.” 

_That_ surprised Claude. They were almost back to her dorm room by the time she admitted that. “You know what fear is? I’m shocked, Teach.” 

She made that funny little airy laugh through her nose before her expression turned grave again. “I don’t want to become that monster.” 

“You won’t. I’ll make sure of it.” 

“Claude?”

“Yeah, Teach?” 

“If I do… promise me you won’t hesitate to do what it takes to keep me from hurting anyone.” 

He processed her request for a few seconds. He understood it, but the thought was more painful than he expected it to be. 

He nodded at her. “I won’t let it get that far. But if it ever does… I promise.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I began writing this before the DLC came out, just piggybacking on one of my favourite fan theories. Was very happy with Claude and Balthus' support conversations, I have to say.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Suggestive themes   
> Minor violence warning for section 1

Claude carefully laid Manuela out on an infirmary bed. Hanneman had gone to call on Rhea already. For now, it was a waiting game. 

He tried to compress the wound to keep her from losing more blood, but whatever Jeritza had stabbed her with had done something strange to the wound. It just  _ would not stop bleeding! _

_ Think, Claude. Have you come across a poison like this? _ Not precisely, but he’d heard of metals that could induce such responses when it came into contact with blood.  _ I gotta plug this up or she won’t make it.  _

He took a quick scan around the room and spotted the medicine cabinet. He could pick out the little vulnerary bottles from where he was standing, but he’d need more than just that. 

He hustled to grab one and jogged back to the bedside, pulling the stopper with his teeth as he shuffled Manuela into a seated position. 

“Come on, Manuela, drink it,” he pleaded quietly as he poured a little of the liquid in her mouth. He saw the bob of her throat, and breathed a sigh of relief that she was swallowing it and not going to drown. 

It took him about a minute to get the whole vial into her, but her colour looked better once he did. He laid her back down gently, making sure her wound was facing the ceiling, and went back to the medicine cabinet. 

He gave it a better look this time, knowing he had a few seconds to spare. She had lots of different potions on the shelves, none of which he was looking for. 

_ Aha.  _ Little drawers. And when he opened them, they held the dry ingredients pre-mixed for making poultices inside.  _ Perfect.  _

He opened a couple of drawers and closed them again quickly before coming across the one he was hoping he’d find. He grabbed a nearby mortar and pestle, wiped it out with a clean-looking cloth to be safe, and used the spoon inside the drawer to scoop some out. 

Once again, he used his teeth to pull the stopper on a little vial labelled ‘water’ on the top shelf, pouring it into the mixture little by little, careful to ensure he had the consistency right. The smell engulfed him as soon as he added a little water, reassuring him that he’d picked the right one. 

In a larger drawer below the desktop portion of the cabinet were bandages. He was in the process of grabbing them when Hanneman returned with Rhea. They didn’t acknowledge his presence as they went straight to Manuela’s side. Rhea’s hands were already aglow with white magic. 

“Professor? Archbishop? I mixed up a poultice for her and gave her a vulnerary while I was waiting.” 

Rhea barely afforded him a look. “Thank you so very much, Claude. Can you bring the poultice here, please?” 

He took the whole mortar and what was left of the water, along with the bandages he’d pulled out. 

“Thank you, child.” She took them and placed them down gently on the bedside table. Her voice was calm and kind, contrary to the severe concern on her face. “Hanneman and I will take care of her now. Though I’d like to hear how you came to find her like this.” 

He sighed. “We’ve been looking for Flayn all moon. Interrogating people, searching for any clue that we could. Tea - er, Professor Byleth - and I both received an interesting report regarding Jeritza, and heard that Manuela had last been seen running from her room here with his mask in her hand by Jeralt. Jeritza wasn’t in the training ground, so the next logical place to check was his room. That’s where we found her.” 

“And no sign of Jeritza, I take it?” 

“None,” Claude confirmed. 

“Very well. Please, if you are able, return to your class and inform them that Professor Manuela is in my care and will be well again very soon. This poultice will be a great help.” 

“Of course.” 

He left without delay, anxious to rejoin the others. 

_ My hands are still covered in blood. _ In fact, this uniform was likely entirely ruined. Manuela had lost a lot. He scrubbed his palms on his pants, and when they wouldn’t come clean, decided to jog down to the fishing pond to rinse them off quickly before heading back to Jeritza’s room. 

He dunked his hands in the icy water without much regard, splashing himself in the process. The cuffs of his sleeves got soaked as he furiously scrubbed his hands clean. As soon as the worst of the blood was gone from his hands, he stood up straight, shook his hands dry, and took off at a sprint back around to the staff dorms. 

He barely stumbled to a stop right next to Byleth. The entire class looked worse for wear. But, lying unconscious on Jeritza’s bed were two young women. One of which was Flayn. 

“You actually found Flayn?! Nice work!”

“It’s a shame you could not be there, Claude,” Lorenz almost sneered. “I would have liked for you to witness our mortal struggle against the Death Knight.” 

Byleth heaved a heavy sigh. “We… could not defeat him.” 

“Hey, at least we managed to rescue Flayn and complete our mission. That’s what counts, right?” Claude was still out of breath from his run back. “Right! Excellent work, everyone! Now then… let’s get these  _ limp ladies _ to the infirmary, shall we?” 

“No problem. I can carry them both at once.” 

Lysithea quickly stepped in front of the bed. “Be gentle with them, Raphael! Let us carry each one individually. And  _ slowly _ .” 

The class murmured their agreement and began to work together to get the girls up and out toward the infirmary. Claude watched them go, allowing himself to catch his breath, before turning his attention toward Byleth. 

Wherein he promptly lost his breath again. 

She was…  _ smiling _ . Not that tiny turn-up of the corner of her mouth that he was used to seeing. No, this was gentle, and calm, but it reached her eyes. It was so very obviously a  _ smile _ . 

_ It’s beautiful.  _

He stared until she caught him staring. “You know, Teach, seeing you smile sure makes me feel better. You look happy for a change,” he told her. 

She tipped her head at him in curiosity as she turned to face him more squarely. 

“Hm? Do you really not know? Well, truth is, I’ve never seen you smile before now.” He couldn’t help but match her expression. It was so very contagious. “At times, it made me wonder whether you were even human. But I suppose that was just my imagination running wild.” 

She made that airy, nasally laugh, but this time, he thought he could hear some actual  _ laughter _ behind it, too. It made his heart feel light. 

“Anyhow…” Claude nodded behind himself at the door. “We’ve probably kept Seteth waiting about as long as he can stand. Let’s hurry up and tell him the great news.”   
  


* * *

Claude wanted to enjoy himself. Really, he did. But there was something about the laughter and the clattering of cutlery that made his chest constrict with sadness. 

_ We are never going to get to do this again.  _

The other Houses had put up a bit of a better fight, this time, but the Battle of the Eagle and Lion had been dominated by the Deer. There was no denying it; Byleth was the strongest Professor by  _ far.  _ It wasn’t that the other teachers were  _ bad _ , just that they didn’t have as much to offer. 

Hanneman and Manuela were sitting at one end of the table, arguing amicably as they always did. The students, for once, were mashed together instead of sitting in their respective houses. He swore he hadn’t seen either Edelgard or Dimitri smile this much his entire time here. 

And then there was Byleth. She was sitting at the other end of the table, across from her father, surrounded by her fellow mercenaries. She’d been sitting near Claude for a while, soaking up the atmosphere, until Jeralt arrived. 

She’d sighed. “I haven’t had a chance to spend some time with my father over a meal since we got here.” 

“Go, then,” Claude had told her. “I’m sure he’d enjoy it, too.” 

She nodded, spared Claude a smile, and then grabbed her plate and left. 

A laugh boomed out of Jeralt and his mercenary crew just as Claude looked over his way. Byleth had put her head down into her arm on the table, but her shoulders shook in what appeared to be mirth. After a few seconds, she sat up straight again. She was beaming, a wide smile plastered across her face, as she picked up her mug and clanked it against her father’s. They both slammed them down on the table before lifting them to their mouths to drink.

They seemed to be trying to outdrink each other, tipping further and further back in an effort to get the rest of their drink down in one long gulp. Their merc group were cheering them on. “Drink! Drink! Drink!” Byleth’s mug hit the table again a fraction of a second sooner than her father’s did, and their chanting became a victory roar, some standing from their seats in celebration. Those closest to Byleth were smacking her on the back as she coughed. 

Jeralt shook his head in defeat, but Claude could see just how proud he was of his little girl even from where he was sitting. 

Claude busied himself with finishing what was on his plate. He wondered how this must look to Jeralt, seeing how his daughter was opening up so much here. Had she been more expressive like this as a child? Was he seeing a side of her returned from the past, or was this his first time experiencing all of this, too? 

He took a sip of his drink when his food was done. He always felt so sluggish and sleepy after a feast… maybe if he just closed his eyes for a few seconds, no one would interrupt him. 

Claude didn’t actually expect to fall asleep, but he jerked awake suddenly to see the hall mostly empty, and his classmates standing around Byleth across the room. He shook his head rapidly and scrubbed at his eyes, trying to hear what they were saying as he made his way over. 

“...Rhea and Seteth are singing your praises, too!” Hilda was saying. 

“You all worked hard,” Byleth reminded them. 

Hilda giggled. “You’re always so modest.” 

Claude almost skidded to a halt between Leonie and Lysithea, who turned suddenly to look at him. “You really showed them, Teach! I would  _ really _ hate to be on your bad side.” 

“Oh, look. Claude has been revived,” Hilda muttered, but Claude chose to ignore her comment. 

“Your tactics are ingenious, and you’ve somehow mastered the power of the King of Liberation’s relic. You really are incredible.” He must have imagined the blush that crept into her cheeks. “Though you  _ can _ be a bit absent-minded at times. Your mind is like a giant bowl with a tiny crack in it.”

“Claude, saying that only makes your  _ own _ mind bowl seem tiny.” 

“How dare you?” Claude scoffed at Hilda in mock offense. “My bowl is  _ much _ bigger than Teach’s! Though, unfortunately, it doesn’t just have a crack. The whole  _ bottom _ of my bowl is missing.” 

The class laughed kindly together at that. “In other words,  _ you _ are the absent-minded one, not our professor,” Lysithea clarified. 

“That’s true,” Ignatz agreed through his laughter. “He just admitted it.”

Everyone turned as one when Marianne giggled. 

“It’s unusual to hear you laughing, Marianne. Your smile is really cute,” Leonie told her. 

Hilda sighed. “It feels so great to laugh and joke around like this, doesn’t-” She cut off with a scandalized gasp. “Well, look at that!  _ Someone’s  _ having a secret rendezvous in the courtyard!” 

She drifted off toward a window to watch, and the rest of the class began to talk amongst themselves again, drifting off in various different directions. Claude watched them go, and stepped in closer to Byleth, drawing her attention back to him. 

“All joking aside… I’m having trouble sizing you up, Teach,” he told her. “The honest truth is that I’d hate to have you as an enemy. If possible, I wish for you to fight by my side. If I could use the Sword of the Creator, we wouldn’t even be  _ having _ this conversation. I bet if I  _ could _ use it, you would trust me to… right?”

She simply stared back at him, but he could see the corner of her mouth tug upward, her eyes bright. 

He almost sighed. “That selflessness may be what I like best about you.” 

She shook her head at him, but she was still smiling. She yawned loudly, and he abruptly remembered that she’d been drinking with dinner. 

“Maybe you should call it a night,” he suggested. “Unless you wanted to sleep on the floor in here, that is.”

She laughed at that. “I absolutely do  _ not _ .”

He walked backwards for a few steps, giving her space to leave. Maybe he should go get some proper sleep, too. “G’night, Teach.” 

“See you tomorrow,” she answered him, smiling once more before turning her back and heading off to bed.   
  


* * *

It was about two weeks after the Battle of the Eagle and Lion. Things had been uneventful, until their class one day was greeted by Seteth instead of Byleth. 

“Professor Byleth has unfortunately fallen ill, and will not be able to offer any instruction today. Please do not worry. Lady Rhea has already seen to her personally, and has assured us that she will be just fine after a short period of rest. In the meantime, Professor Byleth has asked that you continue to work on your long-term tactics assignment, or work on your drills in the training area. That is all.” 

They all watched Seteth file out, and then they all looked at Claude. 

“Well?” Hilda finally asked. 

Claude cleared his throat. He was worried; what had happened to her? “We should probably put some thought into that tactics assignment,” he answered finally. “Raphael, can you push some desks together for us?” 

“Sure!” 

Claude cornered Jeralt in the dining hall over dinner that night. It hadn’t been a very successful day. 

“Is she okay? How is she?” 

“Hm?” Jeralt hadn’t seen him approach, apparently. Claude waited impatiently for the Captain to finish chewing his food. “Byleth? She’s fine. Unsteady on her feet but well enough. She’ll come around in a day or two.” 

“Does she need anything?” 

“I took her some food at lunch. She didn’t eat much.” Jeralt stared at him blankly for a few more seconds before his expression changed. “Oh, you’re one of her br - uh, kids, right? You all must be worried about her.” 

“I am, and we are, very much.” 

Jeralt nodded. “Rhea’s already seen to her personally, and told her to rest until she’s feeling better. That’s about all she said. You’re the Riegan boy, aren’t you? Head of house or whatever they call it?” 

“That’s me.” 

Jeralt nodded. “She’d probably appreciate it if you stopped in. She wanted me to get an update on how you kids had done with classes today. If you’re taking food, keep it light. Nothing too rich or heavy. Let her know I’ll stop by before I call it a night to check on her again.” 

“I will, thank you.” 

Jeralt simply nodded again and went back to his food, altogether ignoring Claude’s presence. 

Perhaps it was just stress catching up to her. That, he could understand. With everything that had happened to her in the last few moons, it was surprising that it hadn’t caught up to her sooner. 

He requested a bread roll, simple broth, and some tea leaves for relaxation from the kitchen staff, and balanced them all on a tray as he made his way over to her room. It felt a little dangerous; surely, this was entirely unprofessional. But the thought of going to her room gave Claude a little thrill. 

He balanced the tray carefully on one hand and took a deep breath before knocking on the door. “Teach?” 

“Come in!” Her voice was barely audible through the closed door. He used his free hand to turn the knob, then gently pushed it open with his foot so he could grab the tray with both hands again. 

“Hey, Teach,” he murmured as he saw her. She was seated at her desk, watching him enter, with a tome open in front of her. She marked her page and closed it, setting it aside as he walked in. 

“Hey,” she answered with a warm smile. He expected her to look pale and drawn, but she looked oddly flushed. She was dressed comfortably in a loose cotton shirt with an open neckline and dark linen pants. “I’d offer to take that from you, but it would probably go everywhere.” 

He put it down on the desk in front of her, and she picked up the spoon with a shaky hand. He turned around to close the door behind himself. He debated for a moment whether he should latch it closed again. 

_ Probably safest to leave it open a touch. Don’t want anyone to get the wrong idea.  _

“Do you have a small kettle stove?” he asked when he turned back around. 

“Mhmm.” She gestured down at her other side. Claude tested the kettle to see if it was full, and before he could ask for flint, she snapped her fingers, lighting the coals beneath it effortlessly. 

He didn’t often wish he had a flair for magic, but sometimes, those little things really made him wonder just how much easier life must be with it. 

“Claude? Can you help me get over to the bed? I’m pretty unsteady.” 

He looked down at her to his side. Her spoon was in the bowl, and there were little splashes on the tray. “Not hungry?” 

She shook her head. “I promise I’ll try to eat in a bit.” 

He took her hands and helped haul her to her feet. She looped her arm around his waist once she was standing. He wrapped his arm around her waist, too, ignoring the constricting feeling in his chest at her touch, and started to take the five or so steps toward the bed carefully. About two steps in she gasped and froze, her free hand coming up to her chest. 

“You okay?” 

She nodded. He didn’t realize she’d been holding her breath until she let it go. “That’s been happening a lot.” 

He frowned and continued to help her to the bed. “What’s been happening a lot?” 

She sank into a sitting position on the edge. He turned back around to check on the kettle while she answered. “It’s like… like there’s a bird trapped in my chest, and it’s flapping its wings, trying to fly, but it can’t get out.” 

His grandfather got that, sometimes. He usually described it as a panicked sparrow. 

The kettle was getting warm, but was nowhere near boiling yet. Claude walked back across the room and slowly sank onto the bed next to her. She didn’t protest. 

“What happened?” he asked her quietly. He absently reached a hand up to brush some hair off her forehead before pressing the back of his hand up to it. It felt… normal. Truthfully, he didn’t even know why he did it. He didn’t know what he was supposed to be feeling. It just felt like something he should do. He took his hand back when she started speaking.

“I was talking to my father about… something. I can’t remember.” She fell silent for about fifteen seconds. “I just heard this really loud  _ buh-dum _ , and then I - I guess I collapsed. I woke up to my father picking me up off the ground. I tried to walk back here, but I only took a few steps and almo-”

She cut off with a gasp again. Her chest expanded rapidly as she held her breath. She lunged for his hand, grasping him by the wrist and placing it over her heart on her chest, pressing his hand flat. 

_ Please don’t let Jeralt walk in, please don’t let Jeralt walk in, please don’t let Jeralt walk in.  _ Evidently, Byleth wasn’t thinking too hard about what exactly she’d just done, but Claude was  _ intimately _ aware of where his hand was currently resting. The  _ last _ thing he needed was to be caught like this by her father.

Finally, she let her breath out in a  _ whoosh. _ “Did you feel it?” 

Claude swallowed thickly, wishing his mouth weren’t suddenly quite so dry. Surely, his face must have been burning red. “Uh, no, Teach. You’re pretty strong. There’s a lot of muscle there.” As soon as her grip loosened, he took his hand back, and breathed a sigh of relief that Jeralt hadn’t, in fact, walked in. “There’s a much easier way to do that. Give me your hand.” 

She did as he asked, and he grasped her wrist firmly, placing the tip of his middle finger over the place in her wrist where a pulse could normally be found. 

“Huh.” He couldn’t feel anything. He poked at it a few more times, but still, nothing. “Your pulse is really weak, Teach.”

She nodded. “Yeah, it always has been.” 

They sat in silence for a minute or so longer before she sucked in another breath. Immediately, Claude could feel her pulse, but it was… normal. Nothing out of the ordinary. It stayed that way for about ten seconds before disappearing again. 

“It keeps happening closer and closer together,” she murmured. 

The kettle began to whistle. “Let’s get some tea into you, at least, and then maybe we can try for some bread. I’m sure you could use the nourishment.” 

Byleth nodded her agreement. 

Claude made their tea with practiced ease, pouring them into the ceramic mugs she kept. He passed her a cup, first, then grabbed his own and rejoined her on the bed. 

“You know, Teach, I enjoy tea parties with you, but I’ve gotta say, this is much more my style.” 

He watched her close her eyes as she sniffed at the vapour before taking a sip. The sigh she heaved was contented. Her hands wrapped around the mug as if she hoped to sap all of its warmth. 

“I kind of enjoy the fancy ones,” she admitted. “They’re fun. But this  _ is _ far more relaxing.” 

They sat in comfortable silence for about ten minutes, just enjoying their tea. He always caught her staring at him while they were having tea together, and today was no exception. It was like she was trying to read his mind, to get in there and unravel all of his secrets. 

The way she was looking at him, coupled with the sudden realization that he was in her room, perched on the edge of her bed, hand still warm and tingly from resting on the smooth skin of her breast, made his stomach start to flutter with butterflies. 

“No matter how hard you look, you  _ won’t  _ see what I’m scheming,” he told her. 

She laughed a little sheepishly and went back to staring at her tea, instead. 

“I don’t like feeling like this. I feel so useless. Rhea told me to rest. If I were to get help down to the classroom, would teaching from being seated at my desk count as rest?” 

“I don’t think so,” Claude answered her with a chuckle. “Just relax. We’ll work around it.” 

“How did today go?” 

“Nothing to worry about,” he answered her. “We all worked together on that tactics assignment you gave us. Tomorrow, I’ll take the class to the training grounds and let them run their drills.” 

“Thank you.” 

“It’s no problem,” he assured her. He had never seen her look so vulnerable before. “Just rest until you feel better.” 

She nodded her thanks, and then drained the last of her tea. 

“Do you want to try some broth again?” 

“That’s a good idea,” she agreed. Claude stood and took her mug from her, placing it down on the desk, before going back to help her up. She did the same thing as before, wrapping her arm around his waist. She was warm against his side. He put his arm around her, too, and pulled her in a little tighter - to make sure she wouldn’t fall over, of course. 

Byleth didn’t move right away. “Thank you for coming to check on me.” She sounded almost meek. It was strange to hear her like that. 

Claude could feel his own heart beating in his chest for a few seconds. “I was worried,” he told her. He hadn’t meant to. “I’m glad you’re doing okay.” 

She nodded at him with a smile, and then looked down at the floor as she took a step forward. She was about to take her second step when a knock on the door made it creak open a couple of inches. 

“Byleth?” 

“Come on in,” she answered, and Jeralt swung the door wide as he entered. Claude looked up to acknowledge him. They shared a nod, and then Claude went back to focusing on getting Byleth back to her chair by her desk. 

“Thank you,” she murmured at him as he held her steady so she could sit. 

“Time for me to head out, I think,” he told her. She nodded and smiled at him. He smiled back, then turned to leave, giving Jeralt another nod in acknowledgement as he left. 

_ Interesting. How can she have such a weak pulse when she’s so… healthy, normally? That can’t be right.  _

“Did you eat anything yet?” he overheard Jeralt ask, just before he heard the quiet  _ click _ of the door latching shut again behind him. 

Claude took in a slow, deep breath. His side felt cold. His hand felt funny, too. He couldn’t tell you  _ how  _ it felt, but every time he thought of it, his stomach would erupt into butterflies again. 

_ Maybe a bath would be a good idea. _ He wondered if the hot water would help him forget the feeling of her so near to him. 

He wondered if he really wanted to. 

* * *

Claude didn’t pay too much attention to where he was going, allowing his feet to carry him where they pleased. He’d been too restless to sleep, so he decided to get out of his room and take a walk under the open sky to help clear his mind. 

They were headed back to Remire this moon. Something about a mysterious plague that didn’t seem natural. The details were hazy, mostly because Byleth had a hard time talking about it. 

They’d received their assignment as soon as she had come back to work. She’d been out for a few days, but by the time she came back, she seemed as strong as she had ever been. Apparently, she’d been given their assignment right before she’d collapsed, and forgot to mention it to Claude at any given point while he’d been in to see her. 

Remire was the closest thing to a permanent home that she’d had, he learned one night over dinner. The way her voice had broken as she spoke of it… he didn’t think he’d ever felt such sorrow for someone else quite so keenly. This mission had become personal for him, too. 

He stopped on the bridge that spanned the distance between the entrance hall and the cathedral.  _ Not a bad spot. It’s a nice night. _ He looked up at the night sky around him before deciding that he’d have a better view closer to the Goddess Tower. 

He had planned to walk around instead of through the cathedral itself, but a lonely figure caught his attention inside. The low lantern-light fell ever so softly on familiar blue hair and shapely curves. 

It was unlike her to be out this late at night, and even more unlike her to be in the cathedral. 

Claude walked toward her without thinking, drawn to her like a moth to flame. He was becoming more aware with each passing day of the effect she seemed to have on him. And yet, he couldn’t help himself. He was like a giddy boy again. The way she regularly stole his breath away was intoxicating. He didn’t know that he was falling in love with his closest friend, but he was certainly falling into  _ something _ . 

She didn’t turn around at his approach. 

“Hey, Teach,” he murmured as he stopped next to her, far closer than a student really should stand to his professor. She looked up at him with a small, tired smile, but didn’t move away. “You okay?” 

“I couldn’t sleep,” she answered him simply. 

“Yeah, me either.” 

Silence settled between them. Silences with her were comfortable, usually. She said as much, or even more, in her moments of silence these days. It was amazing how quickly that first full smile had turned her into an expressive, open book. 

He looked at her, and then followed her line of sight. She was staring at the front stage of the church, where services were conducted. There was no statue there, but the stained glass was intricate. It was hard to make out what it was depicting. 

Curiosity finally got the better of him. “Do you believe in gods?” he asked her, his voice full but low, barely above a whisper. 

She looked at him pensively, but there was something odd about it. Claude couldn’t place it, but it made his chest feel tight to see it. She’d never looked at him quite like that before.

“I don’t necessarily mean the goddess of the Seiros religion,” he clarified, the silence suddenly becoming uncomfortably charged. “Just… gods in general. Do you believe that incredible beings who control the fates of all really exist?” 

She looked away from him again, taking in the room around her for a moment before answering. “No, I don’t.” 

“Yeah, I didn’t think so. I never used to believe in that sort of thing, either.” He followed her gaze back to the front of the room again. “I’ve always hated the idea of praying to a god. After all, you can only really rely on yourself. And, truthfully… I still believe that.” 

He caught movement in the corner of his eye and looked down at her to find her watching him again. His heart was beating so loudly he was sure she must be able to hear it, too. 

“You can’t win a war by leaving your fate in the hands of a god. Only tangible facts can really decide a war. Which side has the most troops, the best tactics, the better organization and planning… But, of course, miracles  _ can _ happen. And by that, I mean things that are completely outside of your control. Things that only seem to add up if you believe in the concept of… fate.” 

His voice trailed off breathlessly at the end.  _ She is your professor, Claude. Do not get any funny ideas.  _ But it was hard not to, speaking of such things, with her so close. He had much better self-control when there were witnesses.

“Fate?” she prompted him. Her voice was quiet, too. Low. Intimate. 

He swallowed thickly and turned his gaze from her while he nodded his agreement. “Things like… well, like meeting you, for example.” 

“What do you mean?” 

Claude swore he could feel the warmth of her body on his side, she was that close. He could almost feel her arm around his waist again, could feel the way she’d leaned on him. His palm began to itch. 

He took in a deep breath and looked back down at her. “You just seem sort of… impossible. I think everyone would agree with that. You can wield the Sword of the Creator, you’re a tactical  _ genius _ , and you have this strange ability to earn the trust of anyone you cross paths with.” 

He fell silent, watching her for a few seconds. She kept his gaze, but didn’t respond, so he continued, desperate to fill the silence with words instead of the actions his mind and body were begging him to take. “Before I met you, I never imagined that it was possible for someone like you to exist. And yet, now that I know you, your presence in my life has quickly become invaluable. In fact, it’s hard to imagine making my dreams come true without your help.” 

“I can’t help you with those dreams if you don’t tell me what they are.”

Claude chuckled at her. “Nice try, Teach.” She gave him a coy smile. He continued as if she hadn’t said anything. “Because of that, I can’t believe for a second that our meeting was just a coincidence. That means it  _ must _ have been fate.” 

The way she was looking up at him made his heart pound even louder. It would take nothing to just steal one, quick-

_ Cool your blood, Claude. Icy thoughts. Not appropriate.  _

She looked away, and her spell over him was… well, not broken, but muted. 

“Maybe it  _ was _ a miracle. Or maybe some god empathized with me and my dream.” 

“Some god?” 

“Again, I don’t mean the goddess of Fódlan. Though… I suppose it may be hard for you to grasp what I’m talking about. People all over the world have different ideas about who or what the gods are, right? Even in distant lands across the ocean or… over the mountains… They have gods who see the world as a whole, who don’t care about Fódlan’s borders. Who don’t meddle in our affairs. Who don’t grant life or take it away. And maybe, sometimes, they’ll make a miracle happen.” 

She was watching him again. Butterflies exploded in his stomach. He swore he couldn’t breathe. His icy thoughts weren’t working. 

He wet his bottom lip without realizing before continuing. “A god like that… That’s the sort of god I think I could believe in.” 

They stared at each other in silence for ten seconds of so before she broke it. “I think I understand,” she told him, nodding slowly. 

Claude gave her a smirk and a wink. “Careful, Teach. You’ll anger the followers of Seiros if you say things like that.” 

She made that airy, nasally laugh and looked down at the floor sheepishly. 

Claude heaved a sigh. She smelled clean. There was a hint of something floral there. “I’m just speaking my mind, that’s all. I think people should be free to believe in whatever gods they want. If a person believes in a god, and that god becomes a support system for them, that’s a good thing. That’s what a god should be.” He was interrupted by a yawn. He shook his head a little and looked back down at Byleth, who was watching him with that little smile again. “Maybe I’ve overstepped a bit,” he admitted. 

Byleth made a point of looking around the room dramatically as if she were searching for someone, and then shrugged. “It doesn’t matter.” 

“I knew you’d understand. In any case… let’s keep this conversation between the two of us, yeah?” 

“Your secret’s safe with me.” 

Claude held her gaze for another ten seconds or so before she yawned and shuffled her weight from one foot to the other.

“Finally, maybe I can get some sleep,” she murmured though it. 

“Bored you, have I?” Claude teased. 

“You? Never.” He’d been joking, but her answer was deadly serious. She carefully placed her hand on his forearm. He could have sworn that she was casting some sort of Thunder magic, the way his skin alighted at her touch. “I’m going to head out. You try to get some sleep, too, okay?” 

Claude nodded at her. His tongue felt heavy in his mouth. “Goodnight, Byleth.” 

Did he imagine seeing colour flood her cheeks? The lighting in the cathedral wasn’t exactly ideal, but he could have sworn… 

“Goodnight, Claude.” She afforded him one last gentle smile, and then she walked away. 

Claude stood rooted in place, listening to her leave. Once he heard her footsteps on the stairs just outside, he heaved a deep breath of fresh air and sauntered over to the nearest pew, sinking into a seat. 

He counted ten slow, deep breaths, and then he removed his outer tunic layer, hoping the chill in the night air would douse his inner fire. He was self-aware; he knew what he was. He was a young man in his prime, and his body was responding in ways it instinctually couldn’t help. It wasn’t a new sensation, or reaction, or… whatever anyone wanted to call it. He’d felt this way  _ many _ times before. He just… hadn’t ever felt it with such ferocity, or clarity, or certainty. 

He sat there, alone in the cold cathedral, for another fifteen minutes or so before he felt calm enough to venture back toward his room. He focused his thoughts on the moon’s mission, on what he hoped to accomplish once he took over leadership of the Alliance, of anything and everything that wasn’t the image of her looking up at him through her lashes or the feel of her hand on his arm. 

He made it as far as the dining hall before he recalled that simple, gentle touch, and then the butterflies exploded out of his stomach again in an instant. He gasped, his breath catching in his throat as fire roared through his veins. 

He shook his head, took another few deep breaths, and just hoped he wouldn’t run into anyone on his way back up to his room so that he could douse this fire properly, and in peace. The sooner, the better


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Minor suggestive themes

Claude had never seen her angry before. It was a terrifying and beautiful sight to behold. The way she’d struck out at Solon… A little shiver ran down Claude’s spine at the memory. That moment, only about a day past, couldn’t be more different than the one he was in now. 

It was late. He’d been on his way back to his room from the classroom, and found her with her face in her hands on a bench outside the meal hall, alone. 

“ _Shhhhhhhh,”_ he murmured at her, pulling her closer and rocking her a little as she choked on another sob. 

She’d had no words, but she didn’t need them. He’d sat down next to her and put a hand on her shoulder, and she immediately latched onto him as if her life depended on it. They’d been sitting here like this for about ten minutes, now. He’d pulled her into a loose hug. Currently, her hands were fisted in the back of his uniform jacket, making the buttons on the front strain dangerously. His undershirt was sticking to his shoulder where she’d been crying on it. 

One of his hands instinctively moved up to smooth her hair. After about another minute, her breathing evened out again and she finally loosened her grip on his shirt. She pulled away a little, reaching up with her sleeve to wipe her nose. 

He took a hand back and brushed some of her hair out of her face. His fingers snagged in it a little; it was wet and tangled, stuck to her skin. He was careful to not pull her hair as he extricated his fingers and tucked the bunch behind her ear. 

She looked up at him, finally. Her eyes were red and swollen from the tears, her face blotchy and streaky from the tracks they’d left behind. 

“I’m so - so sorry,” she managed through a hiccough. 

“It’s okay,” he promised her. He placed his palm on her cheek and used his thumb to brush away the tears. Another few replaced them, but he brushed those away, too. 

“How do you deal with all of this? How do you just walk around all the time with - with _this_ happening all the time?” 

Claude was confused. He wiped away more tears. “All of what?” 

“Emotions,” she answered him simply. 

He blinked rapidly a few times, confused, and a slightly nervous laugh bubbled up his throat. “You sound like you’ve never felt any before.”

“That’s bec - because I haven’t. Not like this.” 

Claude couldn’t respond. How was that even possible? He couldn’t wrap his head around it. 

“I would - would eat because I knew I had to. Survived because it was better than dea - death. But when someone said they were sad, or angry, or - or happy, I just never could under - understand it.” 

She took another few deep breaths, trying to get her breathing under control. “That day we found Flayn - that day you said was the - the first day you’d seen me smile.” 

He nodded at her. Dried more tears. 

“That was the first day I felt - felt happy. And I guess - would that be - relief?” 

Claude nodded along. “Because we found them?” 

Byleth nodded back. “And then, I - I think it was excitement. To get up and teach, to spend my days with you - you all. But this is - Remire was worry. My father told me I was angry. But what - what is _this?”_

“Sadness,” Claude answered her gently. “And grief, and loss, and helplessness. Probably some betrayal, too, and some guilt.”

“There are too many emotions,” she pouted, making Claude laugh. 

They fell silent again for a few minutes. Her tears seemed to have run dry, so Claude reluctantly took his hands back. 

“I’m so sorry.” She reached up and tried to brush at his shoulder. “That was highly unprofessional. I think I may have ruined your uniform.” 

“Nah, this is easy to get out,” he promised her. He’d managed to save the uniform that Manuela had bled all over, but it took a _lot_ of soaking. Compared to that, this would be _easy_. “Look, Teach, you’re human. This is normal human behaviour, believe it or not.” He winked at her, and she at least smiled sheepishly. “Want me to walk you home, or do you want some more fresh air?” 

She shook her head. “I should try to sleep. I have to go see Rhea tomorrow morning for this moon’s assignment.” 

“This moon should be fun,” he mused, standing and holding a hand out in offering to help her up. She took it, so he pulled her up to her feet. “The celebrations usually keep things too busy for major assignments for the students. At least, that’s what I hear.” 

“I guess I’ll get the full moon’s schedule from Rhea tomorrow.” 

They walked the rest of the way back to Byleth’s room in silence. They stopped at the bottom of the steps in front of her door. 

Byleth sighed. It was heavy, and she choked on it a little. “Claude? I find myself saying this a lot these days, but… thank you. Truly. You’ve been invaluable to me, as well. I don’t know how I’d have survived this place so far without you.” 

“I’m glad to have been of service. And I’m always here for you. Whenever you need.” 

Her eyes were still sad, but her smile was warm. “Have a good night, Claude.” 

“You, too, Byleth.” 

There was no mistaking the pink flush on her cheeks this time, before she turned around and slowly walked up the stairs. She gave him a little wave goodbye from her door as she closed it behind herself. 

He walked away once her door latched closed, absently reaching up to pull at his wet shoulder. It was becoming uncomfortable very quickly. 

She had never felt emotions before. That explained _so much_ about those early days. But how does someone just not feel emotions? 

That girl… there was something unnatural about her. 

_I’m going to figure her out if it’s the last thing I do._

  
  


* * *

Hilda plunked herself down into the empty seat next to him in the classroom the next morning. 

“Oh, hi, Claude!” Her voice was too bright. Something was up. 

“Good morning. What juicy tidbit are you gossiping about today?” 

“Well, it’s _definitely_ not the fact that you were seen snuggling our professor on a bench outside the meal hall last night,” she told him flippantly.

Claude was careful to keep his expression schooled, but his blood ran cold for a moment. He sighed dramatically. “What about it?” 

Hilda crossed her legs, planted her elbow on her knee, and her chin on her fist. She leaned in so they wouldn’t be so easily overheard. “That’s a dangerous game to play, Claude. I thought you were a better schemer than that.” 

“I don’t see what the issue is,” he answered her. “I was walking back to my room after doing some studying and found her crying all alone in the dark. Are you telling me you _wouldn’t_ have stopped to see if she was okay if _you_ walked past and saw that?”

“Sure, sure. You might be able to lie to yourself, Claude, but I don’t believe it.” She took her chin off her fist and flipped her hair out of the way. “I hear you even walked her back to her room.” 

“Well, then, you must have also heard that I didn’t walk her _into_ her room. Maybe you should find a man who does that for you, too, and I’ll be able to keep more of my rare ingredients on hand instead of helping _you_ out of potentially devastating consequences.” 

“ _Oof._ Point taken,” Hilda answered him. She looked like she’d just been punched in the gut. 

“Good morning,” Byleth called as she finally entered the classroom. 

Hilda got up to go back to her seat. Claude turned his attention away from her to watch Byleth instead. She looked exhausted. She probably hadn’t slept well; he certainly hadn’t. He imagined the rest of the group hadn’t, either. 

Byleth put her papers down on her desk from the front, then turned around and hopped up, sitting on the edge. “How are we all doing?” 

She was met with a heavy silence. No one wanted to voice how they were feeling. Claude didn’t blame them. 

Byleth nodded in response to the silence. “Yeah. Me too.” She took in a deep sigh. “This was a difficult one. I don’t know how to talk to you about it, but I’m - I’m going to try.”

She was quiet, taking her time to look around the room and take a good look at them all. 

“The reason we are here… well, you may all have different reasons. But, in theory, we’re all here to learn how to defend our homes. I think that’s a safe and easy way to summarize it.” Murmurs of assent sounded throughout the room. “Sometimes, reconnaissance is advantageous. And sometimes it isn’t. You’ll never really know until it’s too late.

“Sometimes, no matter how well you do, innocent people will die. People who were simply in the wrong place, at the wrong time. And you won’t be able to save them. Sometimes, that’s the reality you have to face. And you do have to face it. You have to accept it. And then you have to work toward ensuring that that fate doesn’t befall any more innocents than it needs to.” 

“So… we’re going to find Solon?” Ignatz asked. 

“I’d love to,” Lysithea almost spat out in response. 

Byleth nodded. “For now, we have other focuses. But if a time comes when we have that chance… I think that’s an excellent idea.” 

She met Claude’s eye for a moment before hopping off the desk. He gave her what he hoped was a strong smile. 

She cleared her throat before continuing. “This moon, we have been tasked with the entirely mundane job of guarding an abandoned, unused chapel.” 

“That’s it? Sounds boring,” Raphael stated to no one in particular. 

“It does, doesn’t it? Though with our luck, it will be far more eventful than it should be. My father has been assigned to work this mission with us. If anything makes me think this is more than it sounds like, it’s assigning the Captain of the Knights as our back-up.” 

The room was full of uncomfortable shuffling for a few seconds. 

“On the bright side,” Byleth continued, “Lady Rhea mentioned that the church is planning a rather lavish ball for you students for the end of the moon.” 

Excitement immediately began to bubble out of his classmates. He could hear Hilda talking at Marianne about outfits, and Raphael asking Lysithea about what kind of food they might have. Sylvain appeared to simply be considering how many ladies he could get to fawn over him. 

“Alright, guys,” Byleth called over the hubbub. “I’m glad to see you excited, but we have a training grounds appointment to keep. Let’s walk and talk.” 

Despite everyone’s excitement, they seemed well focused during their drills that day. Occasionally, that haunted look would return to a classmate’s eye, but they pulled through it. They looked out for each other more today than Claude had ever seen them before. Slowly, everyone’s confidence began to return, and by the time they finished for the day, they were all a sweaty, tired, joking mess. 

Claude found himself walking next to Byleth as they returned to the classroom before dinner that night. 

“A ball, huh?” he mused absently. “It’s been a while since I’ve been to one.” 

Byleth looked down at her feet. “I’ve only ever worked one. We were hired as security. I think that was in the Empire?” 

“Dances here are so stiff compared to back home.” 

“At least you know how to dance.” 

Claude looked at her, surprised. He’d all but forgotten that she was a common-born merc. “You don’t know how to dance?” 

She shook her head. “Not at all. No time or use for it, really. Most I can do is clap along to a beat and sing along to drinking songs - badly, might I add.” 

“Well, we’re going to have to do something about that. You’re the most popular professor here, _everyone_ is going to want to get a piece of you.” 

She looked nervous. “Do you really think so?”

“I know so,” he told her. An idea popped into his head. “Tell you what - I’m no expert, but I could help. I was planning to do some studying in the classroom tonight after dinner. You should come by for a bit. I can teach you what I know, though what I know isn’t much.” 

“Really?”

“Really.” 

Byleth nodded slowly. “Thank you.” 

They continued their walk in silence. After they returned to the classroom and were dismissed for the day, Claude made an effort to catch Hilda before she took off. 

“Yes?” she asked him as he slowed down at her side to match her pace. 

“Do you still have that little music box?” 

“Maybe.” 

“Can I borrow it for a bit?” 

She looked at him critically from the corner of her eye. “What for?” 

“I’m trying to save our professor from a great deal of social embarrassment, if you must know. Believe it or not, she apparently has never learned how to dance.”

“What?!” Hilda stopped dead in her tracks. “How can she not know how to dance? What kind of person never learns that?”

“A commoner and a merc, that’s who,” Claude reminded her. She made her _you’ve got a point_ face at him. “So? Can I borrow it? Please?” 

“You had best be careful with it, Claude von Riegan. That was a gift from my father.” 

“Thanks, Hilda.” 

She started walking again, and he kept pace with her. “You owe me for this. For the record, I plan on making the night of the ball a _very_ good night.” 

“You know, at this point, I should just teach you how to make this stuff.” 

“Oh, I don’t know… I’d probably just ruin all the ingredients.”

“That’s a fair point. If you don’t distill the fennel root properly, it’ll kill you quite slowly and painfully.” 

“O-oh,” Hilda stuttered in response, a little colour draining from her face, and then didn’t speak for the rest of the walk. 

Claude waited outside her room for her to go in and grab the music box. “You could have come in, you know,” she told him when she brought it out. 

He held it very carefully. “I think I’ve been scandalous enough already for one week, haven’t I?” 

She rolled her eyes. “It was just me. I didn’t actually tell anyone else.” 

“Not _yet_ ,” he corrected her. “Thanks for this, Hilda.” 

“Yeah, yeah. Enjoy your dancing, or whatever. And I swear to the goddess, if that thing breaks, I _will_ kill you.” 

Claude carried the music box back to his room, where he placed it carefully into an empty bag before heading toward the dining hall. He grabbed a tray of dinner to go, and took it with him to the empty Golden Deer classroom, setting himself up in his usual seat to eat dinner and study while he waited. 

He pulled out Hilda’s music box and wound it to see how long the song would play for, and how it sounded. It was loud, for such a small little thing. The song was on the slower side, as well. Perfect for learning. He left it playing while he ate. It went for almost four minutes before needing to be rewound. 

Byleth didn’t leave him waiting too long. 

“Claude?”

“Hey, Teach, you made it.” He stood up, suddenly a little nervous. “I did warn you that I’m no expert, right? To be honest, I find these ‘dances’ to be downright _weird_.” 

Byleth laughed and nodded. “You did.” She was wearing another set of comfort clothes, a little heavier in material than when she’d been sick. 

“Good. Dancing where I come from is a very different sort of affair. Far less structured. I’m _much_ better at that.” 

“I wouldn’t mind learning that, too, if there’s time.” 

He tried to imagine her performing an Almyran traditional dance with him at the ball, wrists twisting and hips swaying. “Maybe one day. For now, let’s focus on what we’ll need for this ball coming up.” 

“Right.” 

“Dances in Fódlan tend to focus on having a partner,” he began to explain. “Traditionally, the man would be the ‘lead’, and the woman would follow that.” 

She cocked her head at him. 

“Yeah, I don’t really get it, either. I think it’s to do with spins and dips and that sort of thing.” He waved for her to come closer. “Come, stand with me.” 

She did, stopping about two feet away. 

He stepped in to close the distance. “We need to be able to reach each other, Teach,” he teased. She seemed to be blushing a little. “We’ll just start with something basic, okay? Think of it like… like stepping in a square. We can try it without music to start.” 

“Sure,” she agreed. 

“Right, give me your…” He gestured vaguely with his own hands, trying to figure out the stance. “Your right hand.” 

She held it out, palm facing the ceiling. He took it and gently placed it on his left shoulder. 

“Like this, okay?” He watched her nod at him. “Then I put my hand on your waist, and we hold hands on this side, like - hold your hand out like you’re going to wave to me.” 

She made a waving motion, and he put his hand in hers so that their thumbs folded over each other. 

“You don’t need to grip too tight. If we were doing any fancy spins, you’d want that grip loose so we can stay connected, but give you the freedom to move.”

“Got it.” 

He put his left hand on the dip of her waist. She was warm in his grip. Her palm in his was a little clammy. No doubt she was as nervous about learning something new as he was to be teaching her something he himself was no expert in.

“Ready?” 

“Mhmm.” 

“Okay. Remember, think like we’re in a box, okay? This way first.” 

He stepped to his left. She followed him, but left her feet apart. 

“You need to bring your feet back together,” he warned her. “I’m going to be making you take a step backward next, and you need to make that step on the same foot.” 

She nodded, a little furrow of concentration knotting her brows together. She looked around herself to check how much room she had. 

“Try again?” she asked. 

“Sure. Ready?” 

She nodded her agreement, and he pulled her left again. This time, she made her step in time with him, confidently, so he stepped forward, forcing her to step back. She did that, too. 

He put her through a few dozen of the box steps, until it felt like she was getting the hang of keeping their timing consistent. “Good. Truthfully, that’s the safest, most basic of it. And that’s about all you’ll really need.” 

“That’s it?”

“That’s it.” She looked almost disappointed. He couldn’t let that stand. “Want to try with some music?” 

She nodded at him. He let her go so that he could wind Hilda’s music box, and when he turned around to look at her again, he caught her trying to stretch her legs. 

“It makes your shins feel a little tight,” she admitted. 

“Yeah, you’ll get used to that,” he promised her. The music started to play, so he waved her in. She stepped in close, put her hand on his shoulder and locked thumbs in the other while he put his other hand back on her waist. “Okay, and one, two, three, four.” 

She did have a good sense of rhythm, at least. The first box or two were shaky, but once she got the feel for the timing of the song, she did well. 

“Want to try a spin?” he asked her. Her eyes lit up like a mischievous child, making him chuckle. “Okay, you want to put your weight on the toe of your dominant foot. I think. Ready?” 

She nodded, and he waited for the beginning of the next musical phrase to let go of her waist, loosening his grip on her hand and propelling her away from him. She spun out a few times and landed it on wobbly feet, a gleeful smile on her face as her hair settled around her face. He gave her a quick look, and then pulled her back in. She spun and spun and over-spun, without letting go of his hand, effectively forcing him to pull her right in, trapping herself against his chest. 

She giggled like a giddy schoolgirl. “Sorry,” she murmured. He was quite content to let her stay there, the warmth of her body against his making it hard for him to breathe properly. “Who knew that would be so much fun?” 

Claude laughed a little with her, then spun her back out, just the once, so they could continue their box steps. 

“For the record, Teach, you’ll want to be careful about how close you stand to the person you’re dancing with. Just spinning like that into anyone’s shoulder may start people talking.” 

“Why?” 

“Dances like this… usually, how close you stand to someone indicates how close you are to that person. It’s almost a kind of show of intimacy.” 

“I’d hardly call something this formal _intimate_ ,” she murmured. 

“It is pretty stiff, but that’s how it is.” 

“We’d probably better work on that, then, so I don’t make that mistake.” She broke eye contact and stared at his chest as colour flooded up into her cheeks. “I’m sorry if that made you uncomfortable.” 

_Just the opposite._ “Nah. You’ve got to learn somewhere, somehow, right? And besides, what kind of teacher or friend would I be if I just let you keep doing that?” 

She continued to stare at his chest as they continued in silence. 

“Again?” Claude asked her after a few more seconds. She nodded, so he spun her out. This time, she landed her spin on steadier feet, and pulled herself back in on her own. She tried to stop herself from spinning too many times and stumbled, falling on the floor, almost taking him down with her. 

“Sorry, I’m sorry,” she told him, over and over, as he corrected his balance. He laughed it off, and since he was still holding her hand, he pulled her up off the floor. 

“It’s okay,” he promised her. Once she was standing, he let her go to rewind the music box. “Let’s try for bigger steps this time, okay? That’ll help your legs feel less uncomfortable, too.” 

“Okay.” 

They continued for about an hour, working on her spins, perfecting her timing, cementing the fundamentals. Mostly, they were quiet. It was such a peaceful moment, he didn’t want to break it with idle chatter. 

And truthfully, despite the rigidity of the dance he was teaching her, he felt… relaxed. Far more relaxed than he had in a long time. It was fun to watch her smile as she found her footing, to hear her laugh at her mistakes. 

The song was coming to a close once more, so Claude put her through the last few steps before it ended. Instead of letting them simply come to a stop, this time, he gave her a wink, stepped in close, and tipped her back into a dip. 

He could feel her one leg come up to keep her balance, and she laughed brightly with surprise. Her hair fell back off her face. He could see the flush of pink on her cheeks, the rise and fall of her chest as she breathed, and when her tongue peeked out to wet her bottom lip, he almost lost himself in the moment and kissed her. 

He was saved by his braid, which fell forward and tickled her cheekbone. Her face screwed up as it touched her, and she let go of him with one hand to scratch at her face furiously. 

He laughed in relief and, once her hand was back in place, pulled her back up to her feet. “And _that_ is called a dip.” 

She was a little breathless as they separated. “That was fun.” 

He smiled at her. He was about to suggest another go, but a gravelly voice boomed through the otherwise empty room. 

“Byleth, there you are. Having fun?” 

They both turned to see Jeralt walking in, in his full set of armour. Claude’s blood ran cold for the second time that day; how long had Jeralt been there for? He’d been so absorbed in the moment with her, he hadn’t been paying attention. 

“I didn’t think you’d be taking this ball so seriously,” Jeralt teased her, looking nothing short of amused. She went a little red and shrugged at him. Claude stayed quiet, but Jeralt immediately turned his attention to him. “You kids must be looking forward to this.” 

“We are,” Claude answered him. “Te - Professor Byleth is very popular. She’s going to be a big hit at the ball.” 

“Especially now she seems to know what she’s doing.” There was an odd look in Jeralt’s eye. “I’m sorry to have to do this, but Byleth? I’ve got an assignment, and I’m heading out. I wanted to have a quick word with you before I go.” 

“Well, then, I guess we’ll call it here for tonight. Thank you, Claude.” 

Claude smiled at her. “You should keep practicing, Teach. You’d be amazed how quickly you can lose something like that. If you need more help, let me know.” 

“I will.” She gave him a smile and a nod. Jeralt turned and walked away, leaving the room, and she trailed after him. Claude could still see her shoulders heaving as she tried to regain her breath from their last dance. 

He watched until they were out of sight, and then returned to his desk to pack up his things. He was in no mood to finish studying, now, and truthfully, he could use a bath. 

_I’d better get this music box back to Hilda before she hunts me for sport, too._

  
  
  


* * *

“The time has come for the annual ball. But first, an eve of merriment!” Claude announced after Byleth dismissed them from classes that day. The Golden Deer were huddled together in their classroom still, their excitement palpable. “Okay, I’ll admit it: the Officer’s Academy isn’t as uptight as I thought.” 

Hilda could barely contain her excitement. She finally gave a little explosion of happiness with a shuffle and a squeal. “I _adore_ such things! Dancing is the only thing I’m really good at, anyway.”

“There’s a feast tomorrow, isn’t there? Isn’t there?!” Raphael pounded his chest with his fists. “I can’t wait a moment longer!” 

Leonie looked apprehensive. “Dancing, singing… I’m not good at either of those things.” 

“So?” Hilda countered. “Dancing is _fun_! Oh, and remember: you can’t dance with the same partner multiple times. It’s tradition! That means you have to dance with all of the gentlemen in all of the houses, swapping dance partners as you please…” She gave a shrill giggle and spun on her toe to emphasize her point. 

“How scandalous,” Lysithea murmured. “I, for one, plan to simply behold the pure essence of dance.” 

“I’ll, um… watch. From a distance.” 

“You can’t just watch, Marianne!” Hilda sounded personally offended at such a statement. “If a boy asks you to dance, you simply _must_ accept. It’s only polite.” 

“You can ask… _anyone_ to dance? Gah, whatever should I do?” 

Lorenz’s laugh dripped with superiority. “Lucky you, Ignatz! Tomorrow, if only for a day, you may live out your dearest dreams of an exalted existence.” 

Claude watched Byleth’s eyes closed for a moment, no doubt to hide that they’d rolled into the back of her head at Lorenz’s comment. 

“As for me,” Lorenz continued, “I am surely to be overwhelmed with the propositions of desperate ladies. I will doubtless have little time for partners of my own choosing.”

“Which one of you is dreaming now, Lorenz?” Leonie muttered, and Byleth instantly began to cough. 

“You okay, Teach?” Claude waited for her to nod at him. “Everyone! Listen up. To no one’s surprise, I have a brilliant idea. Teach, you’ll want in on this, too.” 

Byleth never bothered to hide an eye roll directed at him. It was dramatic, but he knew it was teasing. 

“Go on, then. What’s your idea?” 

He smiled at her, and at the rest of the class. “This may sound impetuous. Perhaps irresponsible. Almost certainly impossible. But we’re going to do it anyway.” 

“Get on with it,” Sylvain complained. They all laughed, Claude included. 

“Alright, alright…” Claude still took a moment - for dramatic effect, of course. “In exactly five years’ time, let’s promise to meet again, right here at the monastery.” 

“A reunion? There’s usually food at reunions,” Raphael mused. “Count me in, Claude!”

An excited chorus of agreements sounded, but fell quiet when Marianne began to speak again. “Five years from now… will be the monastery’s millennium festival, celebrating one thousand years since the founding of Garreg Mach.”

“I hear the millennium festival will be the largest celebration in the monastery’s history,” Ignatz added. 

“Oh, I get it! It’ll be easier for us all to get back here with the millennium festival as an excuse.” 

Claude nodded at Hilda. 

“How true,” Lorenz agreed. “As the new leader of the Alliance, I will certainly have occasion to attend and pay respects to Lady Rhea.” 

Claude didn’t bother to cover his eye roll like the rest of the class did. 

“That almost certainly will _not_ transpire,” Lysithea spat, her eyes still scrunched closed. 

“And… you, Teach?” Claude asked, hoping to put Lorenz’s comment aside. Everyone’s attention fell back on Byleth. “I guess it’s hard to imagine that you’ll still be teaching here five years from now… but I’m sure no matter where you end up, you’ll come running at the chance to see your adorable little Golden Deer again, right?” 

She laughed brightly. “Probably so.” 

Claude cleared his throat dramatically and addressed her in a stage whisper. “That was your cue to promise everyone you’ll return,” he told her. “Go on, set a good example, Teach. If _you_ promise, everyone else will, too.” 

Lysithea laughed at them. “I’m _already_ excited! After five years, we’ll all be whoever we’re going to become.” 

“Oh, please, Professor, invite Captain Jeralt, too! I want to show him how well his apprentice turns out.”

“It’s settled then,” Hilda announced with a clap of her hands. “What do you say, Claude? Is it official?” 

“The promise is sealed,” he answered. The class around him broke into happy chatter. “That means we’re all obligated to keep it. Five years from today, all of us will meet again at the monastery.” 

Claude watched as Byleth’s smile grew. The class was starting to bunch up and talk more animatedly as they gathered themselves to go begin the festivities. 

“Don’t forget, Teach,” Claude told her. Her gaze snapped to him. Her smile shrank a little, but it was no less warm. “You and I _will_ meet here again.” 

She gave him a solemn nod. “I promise.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact: I think in a different life, Claude would make an incredible apothecary. Especially for women who enjoy sexual freedom without consequences. 
> 
> If my research was correct, fennel root is believed to be related to sylphium, a plant that was, historically, frequently used for contraceptive purposes.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Major death and grief warning

They’d worked all moon on her dancing skills. She was a quick study, too. It wasn’t long before he got to start working on the basics of other dances with her. 

He watched from the sidelines of the ballroom as Edelgard and Dimitri spun and swayed with their dance partners in time with the waltz that was playing. Most of the other students were giving them their space, but a few more started to join. 

Byleth was standing at the sideline. She, like all of them, was in her formal dress uniform. It was a flattering cut, though truthfully, it would be hard to find an _un_ flattering cut for her. She was playing with the cuffs of her sleeves. She looked a little apprehensive. After all, dancing in front of an audience was something she’d never done before. 

Someone invited a young female student that was standing in front of Byleth to join them for a dance, and now, there was no real barrier between Byleth and the open floor. She took a half step back toward the table that was just behind her. 

_Time to save her._ He wondered if she had sensed his presence, because the moment he took a step toward her, she looked over and caught his eye. He gave her a smile, and swore he saw her breathe a sigh of relief. 

“Hey, Teach,” he murmured. His smile widened as he winked at her and grabbed her hand, pulling her toward the dance floor. 

She obliged him, and when he turned to face her, she stepped into her position with practiced ease. The moment his free hand found her waist, any outward hint of hesitation was gone, and she gave him a smile as he began to lead her through the steps. 

“You’re doing great,” he assured her. 

“Now that I’ve started, I feel better.” 

He watched her as he led her through a few more complicated turns, his attention focused entirely on not messing it up. Her eyes were bright and her smile was warm. 

“You really do enjoy this,” he commented. 

She nodded at him. “It feels a little weird to say, but… how do I say it?” she mumbled. “It makes me feel… soft?” 

Claude tipped his head, curious, but waited for her to find her words. 

“I don’t know,” she finally huffed out. “It’s like… it makes me feel like a beautiful, delicate, desirable _lady_. I’ve never wanted to feel that way before, but this makes me feel that way. And I kind of like it.” 

“You’ve always been a beautiful lady, Teach, but I have to say, I don’t think _anyone_ could consider you delicate. Not when you could break them in half with your bare hands.” 

She laughed brightly at him. “That’s true. As much as I like _this_ feeling, I think I do like that one more.” 

The song came to an end, and he brought them gracefully to a halt. 

“No dips tonight?” she teased him. 

“Maybe later,” he answered her with a wink, and then bowed low, taking her hand and gently placing a kiss into her knuckles. “Thank you for the honour, my lady.” 

She was a little pink in the face, and she giggled nervously at him. When he stood up, she playfully smacked him on the arm before waving him away. He laughed along with her and took a deep breath as he watched her walk away. As he let the air out of his lungs, he put on his Riegan charm and went to work. 

He danced and socialized and politicized his night away. It passed him by in a blur of expensive wine and heavy perfumes. More than a few of his dance partners stepped on his toes, leaving his boots scuffed and dirty. 

About three hours into the event, he began to get overwhelmed by it all and decided to go take a walk. He caught sight of Byleth on his way out, being led onto the dance floor by Ferdinand. She’d been every bit as popular as he’d predicted, and he was happy to see her doing well. 

It was refreshing to be out in the wintery air; he hadn’t realized how warm and suffocating it was inside. It was a beautiful, crisp, clear night, with the open sky above unobstructed. 

He didn’t think too hard about where his feet were carrying him as he crossed the bridge toward the cathedral. There was no familiar frame silhouetted in the lights tonight, so he circled around the outside of the cathedral and approached the Goddess Tower. Tonight was the one night of the year that students could get in. Claude recalled Sylvain talking about how going to the Goddess Tower on this night was supposed to be a sacred ritual for lovers. 

But he was alone, and the view of the night sky was calling him. 

He quietly hummed the tune he’d danced with Byleth to as he climbed the stairs. When he reached the top, he found the tower empty. There was a balcony near the top of the stairs, and he almost floated over to it. 

The view it afforded was unparalleled. He took a deep breath of the biting air, and smiled to himself, staring up at the stars as contentment washed over him. He felt so small under the light of the stars. It was comforting, the way looking up at the sky made his dreams feel small and almost insignificant. 

His mind wandered, thinking about the past year. Coming to the Officer’s Academy had to have been one of the best decisions he’d ever made. 

> _"You’ve got what it takes to change the world, baby boy. Neither Fódlan nor Almyra will soon forget your name. But you can’t rush this. It will all come together in its own time.”_

The words his mother had said to him by the fire that one night came back to him with a rather sudden clarity. She was right, of course. She was _always_ right. But he realized, upon reflecting on them now, that he’d finally figured out how to live in the moment for a while. 

Sure, he still had goals and dreams. He certainly hadn’t given up on those. But he had definitely learned patience here, too. He’d learned how to stop always only looking at the future, and to enjoy the present. 

The sound of a pebble skittering behind him drew him rather suddenly out of his thoughts, and he turned around to find the source of the noise. 

“Oh,” he exclaimed, genuinely surprised. The blue steel eyes staring back at him were equally shocked. “Hey, Teach. What brings you to the Goddess Tower?” 

His heart began to beat rather furiously as Sylvain’s story bounced around in his head again. She didn’t answer him. 

“You know what, nevermind. The answer is as clear as day,” he told her. “You couldn’t bear the ball anymore and simply had to escape.” 

She relaxed a little. “I just needed a break,” she admitted. She looked tired. 

Claude shrugged at her. “There’s nothing wrong with admitting you’re not comfortable in a noisy crowd. Really, I get it. I’m the same way.” 

Byleth looked at him funny. “I don’t believe it.” 

He laughed under her scrutiny. “See right through me, do you? But… I really do mean it. Parties aren’t for me. Music and fun are all well and good, but those dances… well, we’ve been over this.” 

“They’re something else,” Byleth agreed. 

“I’m almost as new to it as you are,” he admitted. They’d never _really_ talked about that much. Even in Almyra, he’d never really been taught how to dance, because there was less formality in it. “I was never taught to do that sort of thing until recently, either. My upbringing was… lacking, in certain ways.” 

He could almost see the gears turning in Byleth’s mind. “Even though you’re heir to the Alliance?”

“Even so,” he agreed. “I may have secured a fancy new title, but who I am on the inside… well, status alone won’t change that. That’s a bit of an aside, though. Say, Teach… have you heard the legends about this tower?” 

She wet her bottom lip as she slowly shook her head. He wondered for a moment if she was lying. 

He cleared his throat nervously. “They say if a - a man and a woman pray for the same thing here, on this night, the goddess will grant their wish without fail.”

“Why tonight?” she asked. “Why not any other night?” 

“Who knows?” he admitted. “Maybe it has something to do with celebrating the anniversary of the monastery’s completion. Maybe the goddess comes down from above on _this_ night alone to celebrate with us. Even goddesses like to party, right?” 

Byleth shared a quiet laugh with him. Her eyes seemed to gloss over for a second, erasing all the emotion from her face, before she blinked and was back to herself. 

“The truth is that it’s just a legend the students here like to tell. It’s not based on any real facts.” And yet… a moment of silence passed between them. Byleth seemed lost in thought. “I suppose it _would_ be a waste to pass up a chance of having our wish granted, though. What do you say, Teach? Care to try?” 

She didn’t answer right away. When she did, her voice was quiet. Like that night he’d found her in the cathedral. “What would we pray for?” 

“Hm… Let’s see…” Claude’s mouth had gone dry, rather suddenly. Butterflies were once more fluttering around in his stomach. “How about we pray for our ambitions to come true? You don’t exactly seem like the selfish type, but even you must have an ambition or two.” 

“More of a… hope…” she murmured, trailing off. If he wasn’t mistaken, she was blushing again. 

_That’s intriguing._

“That’s what I thought. It’s the same for everyone,” he told her. He seemed to have stepped closer without realizing it, dropping his voice to keep the moment between them despite being alone. “No one is ever completely satisfied. Everyone has something they long for. Otherwise, what’s the point of it all?”

Another moment of silence fell between them. It was heavy, like that night at the cathedral. Byleth wouldn’t quite meet his eye. 

“Of course, the same goes for me,” he admitted to her. So many different thoughts and images bounced around in his head, halting on the image of her in his arms as she spun into his chest that first night he’d offered to teach her to dance. “Without even realizing it, I found myself holding tight to some _pretty_ big ambitions. If you would… I would love for you to share in those ambitions with me, Byleth.” 

She finally met his eye, and something in him seemed to fall into place. Precisely where it belonged. Maybe that _something_ he’d fallen into with her before had become something a little… more. 

A cold breeze blew through the open alcove, and Claude was suddenly _v_ _ery_ aware of what he’d just said and done. He took in a sharp breath. “All that aside, let’s get started,” he suggested, speaking quickly. “Let’s pray to the goddess before she tuckers out for the evening. Okay… here goes.” 

He cleared his throat nervously as Byleth watched him. Her expression was… odd. 

“Oh, divine Goddess! Hear our prayers!” he started, throwing his hand in the air and speaking dramatically at nothing. Byleth giggled next to him. She looked a little glassy-eyed again. “We beseech you and your radiance! Please, grant us that which we seek!” 

They were silent for about ten seconds. “Huh. I… think that should do it. The goddess will make our dreams come true now, yeah?” he asked. 

Byleth looked at him with a bemused smile and glazed eyes. “I wonder…” 

When she didn’t say anything more, Claude continued. “At any rate, we’ve done all we can. Whether we actually believe our dreams will come true or not is up to us.” 

He heaved a sigh and took one more look at the night sky behind him. “I suppose we should head back soon,” he mused. “I’m sure everyone is looking for you. Just promise to spare another dance for me, okay, Teach? I swear, as long as it’s not one of those goofy noble dances, I am a _treasure_ on the dance floor.” 

“Maybe you _should_ have taught me a few of your routines, then,” Byleth teased him. 

“You wound me, Teach,” he replied. “After all that time I spent teaching you, and you repay me by saying I’m terrible?” 

“I said no such thing - in fact, I would say quite the opposite. And if you want another dance, you’ll need to come back soon, yourself. I’m losing steam rather quickly.” 

“Don’t you worry, I won’t be long behind you,” he promised, and watched her head back toward the stairs. 

Once she was out of sight, he took one last look out at the night sky from the balcony. Meeting her… it _must_ have been fate. A miracle, just like he’d told her. And tonight… maybe the goddess of Fódlan would give him another one. 

  
  


* * *

It wasn’t until Claude heard the clap of thunder overhead that he realized something was _very_ wrong. 

“Go!” he told the class. They were in the process of handing over the injured students to the knights to take to the infirmary when the first of the heavy rain drops started to fall. 

The sky, until a moment ago, had been a bright, clear blue. There was no way they’d missed rain clouds rolling in. 

Claude shivered as the rain came down in earnest. _Where are they?_ He looked around, desperately trying to search out Byleth in the rain. “Teach?” he called out desperately, but he could barely hear _himself_ over the roar of the water. 

And yet, distinctly, he could hear her wail of despair from within the chapel. 

His blood ran as cold as the rain, his stomach dropping to the floor. _That was her._

He shoved a knight out of the way as he rushed back in with single-minded focus. 

“ _Father!”_

Claude felt like he was in a dream, stuck running in the same place. The rain was making everything look the same. All he could do was follow the sound of her voice. 

“Father, _please_ , no, you - you can’t…” 

She came into view, finally, and Claude stopped in his tracks at the shock. 

Byleth was knelt at her father’s side. She’d pulled him up onto her knee, and had her face buried into his scarf, her arms wrapped around his torso to hold him in place. Her whole body was shaking as she wailed and screamed. 

Before he knew it, tears were streaming down his face, too, mingled with the rain. He pushed his hair back off his face and ran to her, kneeling at her side and throwing an arm across her back, hoping to shield her from some of the rain. 

The rest of the day and night passed in a haze. Seconds or an eternity later, Alois came upon them, forcing Byleth to let Jeralt’s body go so they could come in from the rain and prepare him for a proper funeral. Claude had escorted her inside with them. 

She hadn’t left Jeralt’s bedside, and he hadn’t left, either, except for when Rhea brought them dry clothes to change into. He tried to make her tea, but she wouldn’t drink it. Someone brought up food, and she didn’t touch it. The entire time, tears streamed down her face in an endless cascade, like the rain outside. 

Finally, in the quiet hours of the morning, she’d exhausted herself and fallen asleep in the chair, her head on her arms on the bed next to her father’s pillow. Claude rubbed her back for a few moments to see if she would wake, and when she didn’t, he hauled her back into a sitting position. 

“No,” she mumbled, half-asleep. “He can’t be…”

“ _Shhhhhhh,”_ Claude murmured in her ear as he hoisted her up, carrying her out of the room. “Just go back to sleep.” 

“He’s… He’s… I… will find them… Monica…” She curled closer into his chest, still mumbling incoherently. 

The rain had softened to a light drizzle. Claude was able to get her back to her room almost entirely dry. It took a bit of funny maneuvering, but he managed to pull her sheets back before he put her down in bed, and then pulled them back up over her. 

The moment he placed her down, she curled up on her side into the fetal position. “Claude,” she mumbled, still mostly asleep. 

“Yeah?”

“Mon… Monica…” 

Claude brushed some hair back off her face. “It’s okay. We’ll talk more in the morning. Just try to get some sleep for me.” 

She was still mumbling when the door closed behind him. 

  
  


* * *

She was impossible to find in those two days between Jeralt’s death and his funeral. 

The monastery was in a state of shock and mourning. There was a hush everywhere Claude went. No one laughed. Few people smiled. Jeralt’s death had left an incredible impact on the people. 

He found Byleth quickly when the cathedral opened. She looked like hell; her eyes were bloodshot and sunken, her skin was pale, and she was shaking like a leaf in a windstorm. As soon as he was within grabbing distance of her, she had given him a pleading look, and he opened his arms, allowing her to take some small refuge from the storm in his embrace. 

People poured in, packing the place as if it were a holy day, to pay their respects. It was touching to see so many here. Jeralt was well-loved, evidently. 

“Claude?” Byleth’s voice was weak. She’d been clinging to him, heaving and dry sobbing, for fifteen minutes or so at this point. He wondered briefly when she’d last eaten. “It was Monica. With a knife like - like the one we found by Manuela.” 

“So the enemy infiltrated the student ranks, too. No doubt she’s working with Solon.” He felt Byleth nod against his chest while she heaved in another heavy, dry sob. _And with Edelgard, no doubt. She wouldn’t leave her alone. Perhaps my suspicions about the Flame Emperor_ are _true._

“I tried to - I couldn’t-” 

“ _Shhhhhhhhh_ , it’s okay. Let’s just focus on getting past the worst of the grief, and then we’ll start working on a plan, okay?” 

She pulled away finally and nodded. She had evidently cried herself dry, but her body was still trying to go through the motions. It was an ugly and heartbreaking sight. “Will you stay - stay here with me?” 

“Absolutely,” he promised, motioning for her to sit and taking the spot next to her. 

The cathedral was filled with sniffles and sobs as Rhea herself performed the service that would send Jeralt to his goddess’ side. In all, it took about half an hour, and then the congregation was asked to allow the actual burial to be seen to only by those who personally knew him. 

“I can’t - I _can’t_ -” Byleth sobbed. Finally, fresh tears began to flow. 

“You’ll feel better once it’s done,” he promised her. 

“Will y - you come wi - with me?” 

“Of course. Whatever you need me to do.” He offered her his arm, and she looped hers with his. “Where are we headed?” 

“Grave - graveyard. Near the kni - knight’s hall. He’s being - laid to rest with m - my mother.” 

“Your mother is buried here?” She nodded at him. “Well then, I guess you’re a little older than you thought you were.” 

They were quiet for a moment while they walked. Her voice was a little steadier when she spoke again. “He wanted to talk to me bef - before the battle. After we handled Remire, he - he admitted I’d been born here. But he took me - took me away when I was only a few mo - moons old. I learned that he - he used a fire to fake our deaths.” 

“I guess that would be when he became a mercenary.” 

“He always told m - me, ‘ _We owe the people of Remire.’_ I - I think maybe they took us in. Helped hi - him raise me.” 

Claude slowed their pace as they reached the small graveyard. There was no mistaking where they needed to go; the entirety of Jeralt’s mercenary company were encircling the grave. Alois was there, too, and Leonie, along with a few of the other Knights of Seiros. Standing next to the grave, patiently waiting, was Rhea.

“I’m here if you need me, Byleth, but I don’t know that I have a place down there,” he told her quietly. 

She seemed to take in a few short, panicked breaths, so he pulled her back in close, tucking her head under his chin. He rubbed circles into her back until her breathing slowed again. 

“I can - I can - d-do this.” 

“You’re going to have lots of support down there,” he promised her. He caught the eye of one of the mercenaries, who nudged his friend. The pair left the group to come up the steps toward him. 

“Hey there, Miss Cap’n,” one of them said. His hand came down gently on her shoulder. “There’s no rush, but we’re waitin’ on you.” 

“Don’ worry, kid, we’ll take good care of your prof,” the other promised. Claude gave a somber nod and let Byleth go. She tried to smile for him, but it didn’t work. Instead she turned and faced the stairs, took in a deep breath, and tried to square her shoulders. 

“Okay, boys. Let’s - let’s go.” 

“One second,” Claude reached out and tapped the nearer of the two men on the arm - the one who had spoken to him. “Try to make sure she eats?” 

“We will. She’s in good hands. Jeralt ‘as beaten men within an inch of their life for looking at ‘is baby girl the wrong way, believe it or not. Not that she ever needed him to. Recruited a few men that way, turned ‘em right ‘round. But ‘e trained us all well. We’ve got a tradition o’ takin’ care o’ her to uphold.” 

“Oh. Good.” Claude blinked rapidly a few times as the man walked away from him, unable to stop himself from wondering if the thought had crossed Jeralt’s mind to beat _him_. 

He watched the crowd of mercenaries part to allow Byleth to move to the front of the crowd. When she stopped at the front, anyone who could reach her had a hand on her - on her back, her shoulders, smoothing the back of her hair. The closest mercs on either side had a hand each, holding her tightly. 

Claude nodded to himself as he turned and walked away. There were too many people holding her up for her to fall. 

He was sitting in the courtyard late that night catching up on some history readings when he heard the lot of them returning from town. They were hollering out a chant, sloppily and loudly. He couldn’t make out the words, but it sounded familiar, like one he’d heard in the meal hall many times. And above the din he could hear Byleth’s voice, attuned as he was to it, leading them on. 

He smiled to himself as he closed his book. _Sounds like she’s going to be okay._

  
  


* * *

“And then, they asked me to join the group when we finish school!” Leonie finally finished, stuffing a piece of muffin into her mouth. 

“I’m so happy for you,” Claude answered her. “This is like a dream come true for you, isn’t it?” 

“Yeah! I mean… I always dreamed I’d get to work under Captain Jeralt again. But now I’ll get to work under _Captain_ Byleth.” 

“They promoted her?” 

Leonie nodded and shrugged. “More like they seemed to assume that she’d be the one he wanted to take over. And she leads them well.” 

He took a few more bites of his food. “How was she?”

“The Professor? She was… okay. They made her eat something pretty substantial before they let her drink, but she’s probably feeling it this morning.” She stopped to quickly take a drink herself. “She was in a bad place, Claude. Maybe going out drinking wasn’t the healthiest way to cope, but everyone deals with things differently, right? Maybe what’s best for her is crying her heart out for a couple days, and then going out to the town with the boys and leaving behind a bar tab that would make the Captain proud.” 

Claude smiled at that reluctantly. “Yeah, you’re probably right.” 

They finished their meals in silence. Leonie was done first. 

“Are we with the Eagles or Lions today?” she asked him. 

“Eagles.” 

“I’ll see you there.” 

Manuela and Hanneman were taking on their class while Byleth took her time to heal. It was very kind of them, but compared to what Byleth taught, it was painfully boring. 

At least on the days with the Eagles, he could keep an eye on Edelgard. There was something about her that was bothering him. He had a suspicion, but he didn’t have enough evidence yet to voice his thoughts. 

Monica had been glued to Edelgard’s side since she was rescued, and Edelgard didn’t seem to mind the attention; in fact, from what Claude could see, she was actively putting effort into their _friendship._ If Monica used the same type of blade that Jeritza had used on Manuela, then it would stand to reason that they were in league with each other and, by extension, with the Flame Emperor. 

Edelgard had seemed confident at the beginning of the school year that Jeritza would be promoted to a classroom professor position. With the information at hand, it could be all but confirmed that they’d orchestrated that bandit attack that had led them to Byleth and Jeralt in Remire. And the Flame Emperor spoke with an uncannily familiar cadence… 

He was shaken out of his musings by Hilda smacking him on the shoulder. “You’re going to be late if you don’t wake up, Claude,” she warned him. 

“Right. Thanks.” He grabbed the untouched muffin from his plate and shouldered his school bag, following her out to the Academy courtyard and the Black Eagles classroom. 

The rest of the week passed by in the world’s most torturous fashion. They alternated days between the Eagles and Lions classes, entirely wasting their time by covering the same material multiple times. While the other students had it bad, Claude had it worse; everything that the students would normally go to Byleth about, they were going to him for. By the time he got any free time, he couldn’t go find Byleth if he wanted to, because he had assignments to get caught up on or intelligence to gather. 

_When she gets back, I_ really _need to remember to thank her for all the hard work she does. I’m stretched thinner than Almyran silk right now._

He woke up in the middle of the night, one night, and had a hard time getting back to sleep. He gave up when the sunlight started to seep through his windows, and got dressed, planning to hit the bathhouse before going for breakfast. Normally, he slept in later than that on their leisure day.

He was grateful he did get up early when he managed to spot Byleth leaving her room. 

_Where is she headed?_ He followed her at a distance until he saw her take the stairs to the second floor offices. _Up to her father’s old office, most likely. Perfect. I’ll go see her later._

Later didn’t take that long. He made it in and out of the bathhouse in record time, even having time to run his laundry back up to his room, and _still_ he managed to be the first in line for breakfast service. 

He took an extra muffin and plum, and took them with him when he left breakfast and headed up toward the Captain’s old office. 

The door was ajar when he got there. He could just see Byleth seated at her father’s desk, bent over a book. 

She flipped a page, stared at it for a moment, and then flipped forward a few more. She only looked down at them for a moment, and then she abruptly looked up, toward the door. 

He was out of sight, but there was no use in hiding his presence. He stepped around the door and made to cross the room, noting the glazed expression on her face before she blinked it away. 

She looked a little better, at least. Her eyes were still a little bloodshot, and her skin blotchy. But that would take time to heal. 

“I thought I might find you here, Teach,” he told her, in lieu of a greeting. He handed her the muffin and plum. She placed the plum on the desk. “Not the type to wallow in solitude, huh? That’s a relief, let me tell you. So… what were you reading?” 

She broke off a piece of the muffin he’d handed her and popped it in her mouth. While she chewed, he looked past her toward the book on the desk. 

“Is that Jeralt’s…” He couldn’t believe what he was seeing. 

“Diary,” she finished for him as she chewed. She picked it up with her free hand and passed it over to him. 

“So it is,” he mused, flipping the pages absently. “Hey, maybe this has some entries from when Jeralt left the monastery.” 

She ate another piece of the muffin and nodded a confirmation. 

“Is that so…” he mumbled to himself. “He was the Captain of the Knights, but something made him leave the monastery in a hurry. If it has something to do with your birth, knowing what happened _may_ get us closer to knowing what secrets the church is hiding…” 

He let his mind spin for a few seconds. Byleth didn’t say anything further. 

“Teach? Would you mind letting me read that diary?”

She stopped chewing and gave him quite a fierce look, one he’d never seen before. 

He closed the book and faced her squarely. “I know how important it is to you, but I’m not asking lightly. Please, allow me to borrow it.” 

She looked at him with that look a few moments longer, and then finally she nodded her approval. 

Claude let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. “I’m forever in your debt, Teach. If you’d refused, I would’ve had to sneak in here in the dead of night. I wasn’t looking forward to the prospect. Anyhow, let me fill you in on what’s been going on lately.” 

She put the last bit of muffin in her mouth and grabbed the plum, gesturing for him to sit on the couch with her opposite the desk. He did. 

“Rhea dispatched the knights to various locations in a frantic search for the enemy. There’s a rumour that she’s already secured some information. Something big is gonna happen soon.” Claude watched her eat the plum, wondering how she was feeling with this new information. Nothing seemed to change. “That has me wondering… If you find out where the enemy is, what will you do about it? If you ask, I - no, scratch that. _All_ of us students would _gladly_ lend a hand. Even if that means going against Rhea’s wishes. Don’t forget it.” 

She was quiet. She looked almost like she was on the verge of tears again, and she simply nodded back at him before finishing her plum. 

They sat in silence for about ten minutes. He began reading the earliest entries in Jeralt’s journal to pass the time. “You’ve been a huge help, Claude,” she told him when she broke it. 

“That’s what I’m here for,” he told her. He sighed, closing the book carefully. “Everyone’s worried about you. You’d better show them you’re in good spirits. Well, when you’re ready to, that is.” 

“No… you’re right. I can’t stay holed up in here forever.” She sat up straighter and rolled her shoulders. “I just have one more thing here to take care of first.” 

“Okay. I’m going to go, Teach, unless you want me to stay. I have lots of reading to catch up on now.” 

She shook her head. “I should do this myself.” 

He nodded at her and stood, tucking Jeralt’s diary securely into his pocket. “If you need me, I’ll be in my room, okay?” 

She nodded back, and with that, he left her alone, any prior plans for the day forgotten. 

_Time to get some answers._


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Major violence warning for section 1

Claude was sure his heart had stopped. 

Byleth had taken off after Kronya, deeper into the forest. Byleth managed to corner her, and was about to strike a final blow when Solon appeared out of nowhere. 

“ _ Stop!” _ Claude yelled desperately at the others. 

He froze, watching Solon reach into Kronya’s chest, lifting her off the ground. Even from his distance, he could hear the woman screaming. A wall of dark magic started to line the outer edge of the stone platform Byleth was standing on, spiralling up to the top of the pillars on the four corners. She looked around herself, taking it in, but refused to back down. 

Claude drew his bow, took aim, and let an arrow fly in record time. He needed to at least stall Solon, stop whatever ritual this was, get back to Byleth’s side so that he could help tear down the ones who’d killed her father. 

He watched his arrow’s trajectory as if in slow motion. Almost the instant it left his bow, the walls of dark magic grew, enclosing the entire platform. The force of the wind whipped his arrow off course, sending it careening off somewhere. The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end. 

“Teach!” 

“Claude? What’s happening?” Hilda sounded panicked. 

Lysithea was mumbling to herself nearby. “This is bad. This is  _ very _ bad.” 

The dark wall grew in size and force as the others congregated around him, and then, suddenly, they spun out of existence, leaving nothing but Solon behind. 

“Teach!” Panic was bubbling up in Claude’s chest.  _ “Byleth!” _

“Wh-what was that? Where did you go, Professor?” Hilda called out next to him, her voice cracking in fear. 

“She was swallowed by the mystical darkness of the forbidden spell,” Solon told them. His voice dripped with malice. “An eternity wandering in a void of  _ nothingness _ , never to return to this world. To think, we  _ almost _ had the Sword of the Creator…” 

Claude made an effort to breathe slowly, to keep himself calm despite the terror threatening to overwhelm him in the man’s presence. 

His attention was drawn by Lysithea, nearby. He had never seen her so angry before; she was losing control of her magic. Dark sparks of lightning were crackling out of her hands as she spoke. “I don’t believe  _ anything _ you say! Our professor is still alive!” 

“That’s right,” Flayn agreed. “Our professor is no ordinary human!” 

“I  _ refuse _ to believe that Teach would die in a place like this,” Claude spat back. 

Solon laughed; it was a spine-chilling sound. “Oh, it is possible that death has yet to find your friend. But there are worse things than death. Drifting through the darkness with no chance of escape… Overwhelmed with hopelessness… It must be  _ torturous. _ ” 

“Hey, all  _ I _ hear is good news. Teach is still alive,” Claude countered, more for his and his friends’ sake than Solon’s. “And if that’s true, then there’s only one thing to do: defeat  _ you _ while we wait for Teach’s triumphant return!” 

The sounds of his friends positioning to ready stances emboldened him. 

“Prepare yourself!” Leonie shouted from atop her horse. “We  _ will _ avenge our leader, here and now!”

Solon laughed again, and then sneered down at them all. “How trite. But if you wish for pain, I shall oblige. If you prefer it so, you shall also be added to the ranks of the dead!”

Claude threw up a hand to shield his eyes as a sudden streak of blinding light tore through the air behind Solon. It painted golden sunset hues across what, under vastly different circumstances, would have been a beautiful scene.

Solon’s attention diverted, and the man gasped in disbelief. “So the Fell Star consumes even the darkness itself...” 

Claude watched as a familiar boot broke through the light, and a familiar leg, a familiar sword- 

And a  _ mostly _ familiar face. 

A chill ran down Claude’s spine as Byleth landed. The air was charged with what he could only describe as a holy fury. 

Tea green hair, once jewel-tone blue, billowed back off her face, and jade-coloured eyes stared down Solon with the promise of death. 

Solon retreated further into the forest, looking down on them from above a nearby rocky outcropping. Reinforcements appeared behind him, as if out of thin air, spreading out to meet them. 

“All of you, trust your instincts, and do  _ not _ let your guard down!” Byleth’s voice rang with an authority unlike any she’d had before. “Claude? You know what we need to do.” 

He took in the landscape around them. They were facing the small cliff, but there were stairs on the far left and far right.  _ Close him in on both sides.  _ “Lysithea, Hilda, Ashe, Petra, Marianne, we take right.” 

“Let us begin,” Petra almost snarled. 

“Be safe, Teach.” 

“There will be only one death between us today,” she spat as she stared Solon down, and then turned her attention away from him. “Lorenz, Ignatz, Raph, Sylvain, Leonie, Flayn, we take left. The only order I have is to survive. Show me what you can do.” 

Raphael smashed his gauntlets together. “Let me at ‘em!” 

They tore through Solon’s reinforcements with zeal. They were surrounded once more by the clang of steel against steel, the screams of death from their enemies, the shouts of victory from his allies. They pushed through the enemy lines with unrelenting force until finally, Claude closed in on Solon’s left flank, opposite Byleth. 

Solon was speaking to Byleth, unaware of Claude’s presence. 

“I am terrified by you… even though an emotion like fear has no place inside me. That means you  _ must _ be eliminated.” 

“Not if I can help it!” Claude shouted out after him. 

Solon’s attention fractured. He looked over his shoulder for only a moment at Claude. “I have no time to waste on the likes of you.” 

His distraction worked - just enough for Byleth to act. A flick of her wrist, and she unlocked the chain of the Sword. Another flick, and she sent it hurtling toward Solon. He dodged it, casting an orb of dark magic toward her, but she was running, leaping high into the air, and as she came down upon him, the tip of her sword drove through his chest, pinning him to the ground. 

“To think… that I would - lose - to mere  _ beasts _ -” Solon cut off with a gurgle and a cough. Blood pooled in his mouth, spilling from his lips. “But this is… not the end… Thales will carry out our mission… somehow…”

One last cough and gurgle, and then he went limp, his final breath bubbling in his mouth. 

Heavy silence settled on their battlefield. Byleth was still breathing deeply from exertion as she pulled the Sword from Solon’s chest and shook the blood off. She stepped over his body carefully and walked toward Claude. 

Claude couldn’t help the relieved smile that crossed his face. “Teach! We won!” 

Byleth looked up from her sword and smiled back. She finally looked a little more like herself in that moment. 

Vaguely, from behind Byleth, he caught Leonie trying to tell the others they needed to go do some throat-cutting. Claude didn’t join them, instead focused on the woman directly in front of him. 

He closed the distance between them as he continued speaking to her. “I’ll be honest: when I lost sight of you, I broke into a cold sweat. But Jeralt’s killer is dead. All’s well that ends well.” 

Byleth heaved a heavy sigh and nodded solemnly. “That’s true.” 

He blinked a few times in confusion. Surprisingly, his relief at her being alive was replaced by irritation. “You - You’re kidding, right? I understood putting it off while we were in battle, but now that it’s over, just go ahead and spit it out.” He gestured vaguely at her. “That hair. Those eyes. That unfathomable power. What happened out there?” 

Her shoulders relaxed a tiny bit. “Well, Claude, I think I’m about to shake your faith to its core,” she told him quietly. “You remember how I told you I don’t really believe in the goddess? Well, she’s real. Or she was. She was living within me, within my mind. Neither of us knew she was the goddess until very recently. And for the record, she  _ does _ love to party. She was very displeased when I left the ball for the night.” 

Claude stared at her in disbelief for about ten seconds. “What do you mean she was living within your mind?” 

“She would… direct me. Guide me. Provide commentary.” 

“All those times…” 

“Hm?” 

Claude shook his head slowly. “Sometimes, you’d get this kind of glassy-eyed look to you. Whenever that happened, it almost looked as if you were having a one-sided conversation with someone. You were speaking with the  _ goddess?  _ Of  _ Fódlan? _ ” 

Byleth nodded. So whatever Rhea had done to her as a baby… it must have been to connect the two. What purpose would that serve? Just what was Rhea planning? 

“Wait. You say she  _ was _ , as if she  _ isn’t  _ anymore.” 

“The only way to escape that place that Solon sent us to was to grant me her power, which… consumed her, I guess.” 

“So does that mean that  _ you’re _ the goddess now?” 

“I don’t think so,” she answered him. “At least, I still  _ feel _ human. I think I’m more akin to Seiros than Sothis.” 

“Who’s Sothis?” 

“The goddess.” 

“Right. I knew that. Okay, but… hold on.” Claude put his head in his hand. This was making his brain hurt. “You mean you’re telling me… that an entity who claims to be the  _ goddess of Fódlan _ was living inside your mind? And it’s been that way since you were a baby? And this goddess just… entrusted all of her goddess-like power to you, and then vanished.”

She nodded at him, with a look that said  _ I know this sounds crazy, but believe me, it’s true.  _

“It’s a difficult story to swallow, Teach,” he told her, “but the way you look now… I guess I’ve got no choice but to believe you.” His hand came up to his forehead again, and he started to think out loud. “How could something like that happen? There  _ must _ be a clue in Jeralt’s diary. 

“If you believe the diary, there’s a high possibility that Rhea did something to you when you were born,” he continued, addressing Byleth directly again. “That’s likely when all this began.” 

Byleth nodded along with him. 

He continued to speculate. “What in the world happened to you as a baby? And what was Rhea after? What could the church possibly hope to accomplish by tying your fate to the goddess’? Did they think it would-”

He was pulled from his thoughts by the sound of a body collapsing on the ground. 

“Hm? Teach!” He hadn’t even seen her fall over. “What’s the matter? Did you trip, or - wait. Are you sleeping?” 

Her eyes were closed, and her breathing was steady. 

_ This must be an effect of the goddess’s power. I wonder if Byleth’s body can handle the strain… Think, Claude. What now? We need to get her back to the monastery. She’s not very heavy, but after a fight like that, I don’t know if I can carry her all the way back by myself. Maybe Hilda can help carry her back? She’ll complain, but she won’t refuse…  _

  
  


* * *

Claude yawned widely as he put Jeralt’s diary away in a drawer of his desk. 

_ No heartbeat? But she had one. I checked it when we got her back to Manuela, it was strong.  _ But it wasn’t always strong, he remembered. 

Suddenly, pieces of the puzzle began to slot into place.  _ No heartbeat as a child. Never cried or laughed, no expression - like when I first met her. When was that first time I saw her really smile? Was it after she was sick, or before? Was she sick because - of course. Because her heart finally started beating. She’d never felt it before, that’s why she was panicked. And after it started beating, she started to feel.  _

_ Rhea did something to her as a baby to make her this way - or at least Jeralt believed it. Just how did she stop her heart from beating? Could she have done something to her heart to tie her spirit to the goddess? What does she gain from that? If Sothis gave her her power, completed the merging or tying or whatever, will she  _ become _ Sothis? Will Byleth cease to be? _

_ That _ though left him feeling vaguely ill. She’d seemed herself - mostly herself, anyway - before she’d suddenly fallen asleep on them. Who was to say she’d be herself when she woke? 

He tried not to think about it too hard as he got ready for bed, instead focusing on remembering the exact sound of her voice and the picture of her smile. 

If she  _ did _ change, he wanted to make sure he never forgot those parts of her. 

  
  


* * *

  
  


She arrived late to breakfast the day after next, but at least she arrived. 

Claude half stood the moment he saw her. She noticed him and waved, then hopped in line to get food. People were staring at her, not bothering to hide it, their conversations fading into stunned silence. She either didn’t notice, or didn’t care. 

Her tray seemed light on food as she sat down across from him with a yawn. 

“Finally decided to wake up?” he teased her. 

“Good to see you, too.” 

“How do you feel?”

“Tired,” she told him, yawning again as if to prove her point.

“You just slept for over two days.” 

“I know. I could go for another two, honestly.” She paused to eat a few bites of food. “Sothis slept a  _ lot _ . If this is how she felt all the time, I don’t blame her.” 

Claude watched her eat in silence for a few minutes. Everything about her seemed to be… her. The way she held her fork, the way her eyes flashed up to his when she felt him staring, the way she hunched over her plate because she was in a hurry. 

He’d been used to her blue, but the green just seemed to fit her. There was something familiar about the colour of her hair. He couldn’t put his finger on it. 

She sighed and pushed her chair back. Her plate was clean. 

“That was quick.” 

“I need to go see Rhea before class, get our assignment for the moon.” 

Claude nodded. No rest, of course. “Are you sure you’re alright?”

She yawned again, but smiled kindly at him as she stood. “I’m good. I promise. I’ll see you soon.” 

And then she was gone, weaving between the tables and dumbfounded students on her way to see the Archbishop, a trail of shocked silence in her wake. 

  
  


* * *

  
  


“Go,” Byleth told them all quietly as Rhea walked away. 

The class, too shocked to argue, followed her direction. But Claude stayed. 

He was still breathing deeply, though whether it was left over from the exertion of the fight, or the shock of his theorizing being proven true, he couldn’t tell. 

“Now, I’m not exactly on friendly terms with the princess, but I  _ do _ have a few questions for her.” He put his head in his hand, threading his fingers into his hair. “Edelgard said that the Crest Stones represent power.  _ That _ means she knows how to use them. She almost certainly knows other secrets of Fódlan as well. Once things calm down a bit, there’s a  _ lot _ more that Rhea needs to tell us.”

Byleth nodded her agreement, then nodded in the direction that Rhea and the rest of the class had gone. He dropped his hand and gestured for her to go first. He fell in step next to her. 

“I just hope there’s still time,” he mumbled to no one in particular. Movement in the corner of his eye told him she was looking at him. “I have this strange feeling… that history is being written. That an age of anarchy is upon us.”

She sighed, deeply. 

“Let’s hope I’m mistaken.” 

By the look in Byleth’s eye, she didn’t believe that any more than he did. 

  
  


* * *

  
  


“So… what exactly was the  _ point _ of that, Professor?”

They had all ended up back in the classroom after dinner that night, even Byleth. It was unusual, but with so much uncertainty in the air, it made sense that they’d all want to be somewhere familiar and safe. 

“I don’t know, Hilda,” Byleth admitted. “Rhea said I was supposed to receive some  _ divine revelation  _ or something. That I’d hear the voice of the Goddess. But I’ve already heard her voice, many times.”

“But not since the Sealed Forest, right?”

When Claude spoke, all the attention turned to him. Byleth nodded sadly. 

“She had to - sacrifice herself, I guess is the right way to put it. It was an unbelievable feeling. The power… She’s already as much a part of me as - as my heart, or my mind. But I feel like  _ she _ is a part of  _ me _ , not the other way around.”

“Rhea seemed distraught when nothing happened to you. It was like she was expecting you to change when you sat on that throne, Teach.” The memory had his heart racing again, desperately hoping she would be okay. He hadn’t been ready to lose her. “She said something about it being ‘a step away’. That something might be missing.” 

“Perhaps she thought to resurrect the Goddess,” Lorenz offered. 

Uncomfortable silence settled over them all. Yes, he was right. Claude was sure of it. And if the look in Byleth’s eye as she caught Claude’s was any indication, that thought terrified her. 

Her eyes slid closed finally, and she took a deep breath. 

“Thank you all for going down there with me today. For all of your hard work.” Her voice was vulnerable. It was unlike her to speak to them all in this tone. 

“I’m glad we were there,” Leonie piped up.

Ignatz shuffled uncomfortably in his seat. “Me, too. You’re strong, Professor, but that would have been messy.” 

“You’re right.” She opened her eyes again, looking around the room at all of them. “Edelgard has put us in a  _ very _ difficult position. It will be a few days before we hear official word of her intent from Enbarr. I would like to look at any final class certifications for you all in the time we have left. We all need our best fighting chance in whatever is to come. Do you all think you’re ready?” 

Murmurs of assent and vigorous nods rippled through the room. 

“Good. I… want to tell you all that everything will be okay. That things will work out. But I think we all know that’s an outright lie. Whatever comes… I am proud to have worked with you all. I am proud of who and what you’ve all grown into. And I will do everything in my power to keep you safe and help you succeed.” 

Marianne, somewhere off to Claude’s right, was murmuring a prayer. Hilda sniffled loudly behind him. Someone he couldn’t see pounded a gloved hand against their chest; it was too small a sound for Raphael. Maybe Petra? 

“We’re with you, Teach,” he finally managed to say. “Just give the word.” 


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Minor violence warning for section 3  
> Minor death and grief warning

Claude and the others surged out onto the castle grounds, hot on Byleth’s heels, at the sound of the war horns. 

A knight waved Byleth and Claude into the Reception Hall. 

“This way!” Byleth shouted to them, and they all surged after her. 

He held the door as his classmates darted past, leaving it open as he followed in their wake. When they arrived in the Reception Hall, they found Alois waiting for them, Byleth at his side. 

They weren’t the only ones there. The hall was a flurry of activity, the sounds of armoured boots running on the stone floor bouncing off the walls in an almost deafening cacophony. Above it all, orders were being shouted, directions being given, swords ringing on scabbards. 

Claude barely managed to skid to a halt, hands behind his head so he could catch his breath, as Alois began to speak above the din. 

“Listen up, everyone! The Imperial army is upon us! If you can fight, pick up a weapon! Everyone else, hurry up and evacuate! We have the Goddess’ protection on our side. We have nothing to fear. Victory will be ours!” 

A roar rang through the room from the knights who could hear him. For a few seconds, it drowned out the rest of the noise. 

Catherine’s boots broke through as she ran to them, stopping on Byleth’s other side. “Professor. Are you ready?” 

“Almost.” 

“Well, hurry up. I don’t need to tell you that the situation is dire.” Catherine turned to face them then, scanning the students. She looked more severe than usual. A bad sign. “We have some support troops from the local nobles, but the army we’re facing is immense. No matter how you look at it, we’re at a disadvantage. To make matters worse, the enemy is being led by Edelgard herself. Do _not_ underestimate how extraordinary her abilities are.” 

“She’s back already? Talk about impatient,” Hilda muttered next to him. 

“If we don’t stop them, the Academy will be destroyed. Prepare for battle, everyone!” 

His classmates started to shuffle into action at his order. 

“We _will_ stop Edelgard’s rampage!” Lysithea swore. 

“Our opponent is formidable,” Ignatz reminded them, “but if we work together, we will not fail.” 

“Enough talking! Let’s go!” Raphael told them, his voice a dangerous growl. 

Marianne did the only thing she ever seemed to think to do. “Dear Goddess… please, protect us all…” 

The fact that Seteth hadn’t locked Flayn up yet surprised him more than her righteous conviction. “I shall fight with all that I have. It is an honour to fight alongside each of you.” 

“I’ll _never_ give up,” Ashe promised. “No matter how outnumbered we are.” 

“ _Hmph_. I should’ve made a move on the Imperial princess before things got this far. It could have changed everything.” 

Claude frowned in confusion. Was nobody going to call Sylvain out on that? 

Even Petra didn’t have it in her, it seemed. She spoke as if he hadn’t. “She is one who has strength, that has certainty. But we have strength also. We will _not_ be losing.” 

“Professor? Claude?” Hilda was trying her best to sound strong, but her voice was shaking. Claude met her gaze, and found it glazed with fear. “You’ll lead the way, won’t you? You… won’t let any of us fall, right?” 

Claude gave her a solemn nod. Hilda took a deep breath, and then looked around at their classmates before turning on her heel and going to prepare. 

The rest of the class followed suit, as did Alois and Catherine. Byleth was still rooted in place, watching him, her brows pulled into a dangerous furrow that told of bloodshed to come. 

“I wanted to talk to Rhea first, but as expected, that won’t be possible,” he told her. “What did she hope to accomplish at the Holy Tomb? What happened to you as a baby? There are still _so many things_ I need to know. The same goes for the real origin of the Crest Stones and the Heroes’ Relics. And as for Seiros and Nemesis… just how much of their mythology is true?”

“We know so little,” she said with a deep sigh. 

“It’s true. But lucky for me, I refuse to die with so much still unknown.” He’d tried for joking, but it didn’t lighten her expression at all. He sighed, too. “Hey, Teach… all joking aside, can we possibly survive this battle?”

“We’ll find a way,” she promised. 

He nodded. “That’s all we can do, right? If we gave up, the god of fate wouldn’t be happy. I’m a lot of things, but I’m _not_ the kind of man to roll over and die in a place like this. I have my own ambitions to see to. There are things… _dreams_ … that I _must_ see come to fruition. And I’ve been thinking, Byleth.” He stepped a little closer to her, his heart hammering in his chest. She looked up at him through her lashes when he did. “I want you to see those dreams realized as well. Those hopes you mentioned - don’t think I’ve forgotten.” 

He finally got a smile out of her. He savoured it for a few seconds before speaking again. 

“On top of all that, there are still so many secrets out there, just waiting to be uncovered. We can’t let that stand, can we? So, Teach…” She frowned again, and he sighed. “No, scratch that. Byleth. You are… so much more. You’re my ally and my friend. And truthfully, Teach, or friend… none of those words quite capture what you’ve come to mean to me. We may not be connected by blood, but I believe our bond goes deeper than that. Now that we know each other, our… hearts are connected. Even if - if our paths diverge, and we’re forced to say goodbye-”

“Don’t,” she pleaded. She was uncharacteristically vulnerable. 

His heart broke, but he shook his head and pressed on. “I _know_ that we’ll meet again. And so, for lack of a better term, I gratefully call you my friend, Byleth. I hold fast to the belief that this isn’t it for us. No matter who - or what - you really are, I’ll _always_ be on your side. You can’t count on much in this world, but you _can_ count on that.” 

She stared at him in silence for about ten seconds. “Claude, I-” 

“Professor! We need to move!”

They both looked over quickly at Shamir, who was running past in a blur. 

“She’s right,” Claude murmured with a deep sigh. He reached up and placed his hand on her arm, just below the curve of her shoulder. “I need to head to the aviary. I’ll see you out there, Teach. Don’t you dare leave me behind.” 

  
  


* * *

  
  


Claude looked over his shoulder, trying to figure out why the soldiers around them were backpedalling. 

“They’re sounding a retreat!” Byleth called to him over the roar of the battle, coughing. There was smoke billowing up at them from fires down below. “Can we buy some time?” 

So, this was it. The church’s last stand was failing. “A few minutes, maybe, but there are too many for even the two of us, Teach. We’ll be overwhelmed by sheer numbers if we don’t get out soon.” 

“Get the word out: protect the innocents and get out of here! I’ll cover you!” 

He drove his heels into his wyvern’s sides. Instantly they were airborne, and he whistled, prompting his wyvern to cry out in response. 

He was low enough to the ground that he could see his classmates looking at him. He gestured, hopefully clearly enough, that they needed to fall back. They seemed to understand. He stayed airborne, raining arrows down on their enemies as they gave chase. Thankfully, the beating of his wyvern’s wings was enough to keep the smoke from surrounding him. 

Finally, he landed at Byleth’s side again. She was close to being overwhelmed. “Teach! We gotta go!” 

She nodded, reaching her hand out toward him. He hauled her up into his saddle and jammed his heels back into his wyvern’s aides, launching them airborne. 

He took them high, and quickly. This wyvern was still young, and wouldn’t be able to support the weight of both of them for long. He got them just out of range before landing, buying them some time to go on foot. 

He jumped back on his wyvern, ready to go, only to see Byleth stationary, watching as the Empire’s reinforcements filed in with her hand on her sword. 

“Teach?” 

The look she gave him shattered his heart. It was cold, and hard, and fierce. A look that told him, more clearly than words ever could, that she would not be retreating with him. 

“Teach, please.” 

She took in a deep breath. “Go. The others will need you. Keep the villagers safe.” With that, she turned and walked back toward the main gates. 

“Teach! _Byleth!_ Dammit, I can’t-” He was paralyzed, terrified of the prospect both of joining her and leaving her. 

“Claude! We need your help!” Hilda’s voice broke through his indecision. He took one last look at the back of her before taking the skies once more. 

He didn’t look back again. 

  
  


* * *

The class was gathered around a campfire, distraught. Most were in tears. Claude was simply numb. 

Shamir had determined that the cathedral had been left empty. There were some Empire scouts left behind, but not a sizeable force. She’d been able to get people in to look for missing persons. 

Byleth was among those missing persons, but her body couldn’t be found. The rest of the class took this to mean that she was gone, and so they were all in a state of mourning. 

_They’re wrong. She can’t be gone. We were promised a miracle, not a tragedy._

He knew he was in denial, but truthfully, no matter who it was, they couldn’t confirm a death unless they had a lifeless body. Without that, there was still a chance. 

They’d managed to get the villagers into Gloucester territory. There was a tent village set up outside of Lorenz’s home full of displaced villagers. The students had been offered space inside, but they mostly felt wrong accepting it. 

They were all waiting for escorts home. They were strong, sure, but there was safety in numbers. Who knew how long it would be before the Empire pushed at their borders? 

“Claude?”

He whipped around at the sound of his mother’s voice. “Judith?” 

“Ah, there you are. Should have known you wouldn’t take a room in the castle. Are these your friends?” 

He nodded. “Fellow students.” 

“You all won’t mind if I borrow him for a little bit, will you?” 

Murmurs of indifference met her, along with a sob and a few heavy sniffles. 

He pushed himself to his feet. “I’ve got a tent not far from here,” Judith told him. “You up for a bit of a walk?” 

“After you.” 

They walked in silence until they were out of earshot of the group. “Tough crowd. Who did you lose? Not any fellow students, I hope?” 

He sucked in a shaky breath. “Our professor.” 

She gave him a long look out of the corner of her eye. “I’m sorry, kid. I know she meant a lot to you.” 

_She meant_ everything _to me. We were supposed to share this dream together. And now… now I have to do it alone. I don’t think I_ can _do it alone._

He didn’t say anything more until they made it into the safety of Judith’s tent. The walls were made of a tough, thick fabric, so light wouldn’t shine through. Suddenly, he was safe. Safe to let the memories of the fires and the smoke and the screaming overwhelm him. Of the massive dragon that had flown overhead, roaring, causing sheer terror on both sides as it blasted the Empire troops. 

Of watching Byleth walk away, of begging her to turn around, and finally, of having to leave her behind. 

The shaking started first, and then the first of the hot tears broke over as he squeezed his eyes shut, a sob clawing its way up his throat. 

Judith scooped him up in an instant, pulling him over to her bedroll so they could sit before he collapsed. She hugged him and rocked him as he cried. “Let it out, baby boy. You’ll be stronger for it. Let it out.” 

It took Claude about fifteen minutes to compose himself enough to tell her what he knew. 

“A dragon?” 

Claude nodded. “It was attacking the Empire. Where could the church have been keeping a _dragon_? Actually… I think it was the Immaculate One. If my memory serves me right...” 

Judith shook her head, ignoring the last part. “What happened to your professor?” 

He sighed and scrubbed at his face again. He was still shaking. “She sent us away and went back in.” He choked on his breath as he remembered her walking away. “There’s no evidence she’s dead. They couldn’t find her body.” 

He could feel Judith looking at him. “Khalid…” 

“I’m aware, believe me,” he almost spat back. “But.. I can’t believe…” 

Another couple of tears rolled over. He wiped them away, and then they sat in silence for a few minutes, just trying to relax a little. 

“I can help against this,” he told her finally, gesturing aimlessly around himself, “but I - I need to go back home first. I need to take care of some things, touch base with Father.” 

Judith nodded. “You planning on doing your wyvern wrangle?” 

He nodded. “Byl - Teach,” he corrected, “got me started on wyvern handling. Only in the last moon or so. The one I’ve been using is a little young. I’m going to leave it with the church and find a permanent partner. Get that whole business out of the way.” 

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to,” Judith assured him. 

“Even if I didn’t want to, I _do_ have to,” he reminded her. “Can’t ascend that throne some day if I don’t.” 

She made a face of begrudging agreement and nodded at him. “Anyway… I volunteered to escort you home to Derdriu at the very least,” she told him. “Your grandfather has called a round table to discuss the matters of this war. He wants you there. Once that’s done, I’m sure you can do what you need to. You want to go in the morning?” 

He debated it. “I’d feel better waiting until the others have a way home.” 

“I thought you might. There’s no rush. I can do what I need to do from here, just as well. We’ll leave when you’re ready.” 

Claude pushed himself up to his feet with a sigh. “Thanks, Mother.” She nodded in response, and he left her, ducking out of the tent quickly and making his way back to his friends. 

His heart was still unbearably heavy, but at least now, it was determined, too. 

  
  


* * *

He sat on the dias in the throne room, in an extravagant seat wedged between his father’s throne and his new wyvern partner, as a party raged in the room in front of him. 

He’d been back in Almyra for just over a year. His time consisted mostly of practice wyvern wrangling, and further studying politics and strategy. 

His twentieth birthday had passed about a week prior and, as was tradition, he’d been sent on his Hunt. It had taken longer than others’ in the past. Usually, the average time spent out on a Hunt was two to three days. His had lasted six. Granted, he’d approached his Hunt in a slightly unorthodox way. 

He watched as his father’s kitchen staff brought out another platter, this time with an entire deer carcass on it. It took four of them to carry it. 

Sothe instantly perked up at the scent. 

“Patience,” he murmured. He put a hand gently on her head, between her antlers, and she turned to look at him with pleading eyes for a moment before watching the kitchen staff place the platter down. 

As soon as it hit the floor, they backed off quickly. His father’s wyvern was an impatient, feisty beast - not unlike his father, truthfully. But Sothe waited until Claude took his hand back to dig in to her meal. 

He watched her eat. She was still young, probably in the middle of her adolescence. He’d found her starving, crying over the carcass of her mother. She’d been terrified, but he’d managed to gain her trust with food and the warmth of a fire. He’d refused to leave until she trusted him enough to join him. 

His attention drifted, taking in the rest of the scene. There was a band playing on a small stage in one corner of the room. A dozen priestesses, in matching silks, were dancing around a massive stone brazier in the centre of the floor. Many other guests were dancing freely around them. 

The stone brazier held a fire that burned hot and bright. It was customary, upon returning from a Hunt, for the Hunter to cut loose their braid and cast it into the brazier, signifying a fresh start in adulthood from past mistakes and failures. 

Thankfully, the smell of burnt hair was gone from the air, now. All that remained was the smell of the food. 

Claude stood to join the party proper, not entirely feeling up to it. Sothe stopped eating to watch him stand, but quickly went back to her meal after he gave her a quick pat on her snout. 

He wove through the partiers, often interrupted. It took him close to an hour to cross the room. _How lovely. Turns out that when the party is for_ you _, everyone wants your time._

Finally, he managed to get away from an immediate conversation and relax near the opposite wall. He was only alone with his thoughts for a few minutes before Nader materialized at his side. 

“There’s my boy!” Nader called. Claude tried to give his father a smile, but it felt strained. Nader settled in next to Claude by the wall, subconsciously matching his stance. “Quite the turnout, if I do say so myself.” 

Claude nodded and scratched at the corner of his jaw. It was itchy where his beard was growing in. “Hope the kitchen can keep up. No doubt a bunch of these people are only here for the free food. I can count at _least_ a dozen people who are connected in some way to prior attempts on my life, so they certainly aren’t here for me.” 

Nader scowled. “Really, Khalid, you think none of these people are here for you? Do you know how many women begged to be let in for this event? They are dying to get a piece of you. Look, that one, there.” He paused to nod toward one of the priestesses dancing around the flames. She looked much the same as the other women dancing with her: dark brown hair, light brown skin. Unmistakably Almyran. She wasn’t _un_ attractive, by any means. “She’s been eyeing you all night. Word has it she’s even paid a few people to help her get in a good word.” 

“It’s a shame she’s wasted good gold on something like that.” 

Nader gave him a look of disbelief. “What are you, boy? A statue? When I was your age, my blood ran hot for _everything,_ I swear. I’m lucky you didn’t have older siblings.” 

Claude rolled his eyes. “I suppose it’s a good thing I got my mother’s self-restraint, then.” 

“Khalid, listen.” Nader sighed. “I know she was special to you, but you can’t keep holding on to this woman forever. One day, you’re going to have to let her go and move on.” 

_That’s easy to say from where you’re standing. You know where mother is. You know she’s alive and well._ “One day will come.” 

Nader sighed again. One of the kitchen staff walked by with a tray of about ten or so drinks. He offered some to nearby guests, and when he turned around, Nader grabbed two and handed one to Claude. 

Claude took it. He considered pulling out an anti-poison from his pocket, but the other guests who had grabbed drinks had drunk them and seemed to be fine. 

Nader was holding his drink up, with his elbow bent at a right angle, his upper arm parallel to the floor. Claude smiled more naturally this time, matching his stance. They clashed their drinks together, forearms touching, before swinging their cups around to lock elbows. 

Claude tipped his cup back and drank, and drank, and drank. Cheering and chanting went up around them, until they were both done and they unlocked, clashing their empty glasses before setting them down. 

“At least try to forget the politics for the night,” Nader asked him. “Go out there and dance. Celebrate. This whole thing is for you, after all!” 

Claude nodded slowly. “Thank you, Father.” 

Nader just nodded him out toward the floor, so he went. Almost immediately, a woman claimed him for a dance. 

His father was right. He would never forget Byleth, but he needed to stop clinging to her memory so tightly, as if enjoying the company of another would hurt her. He could let loose a little, and still hold tight to the belief that she wasn’t gone. That their prayer could still be answered. 

And besides… this woman’s eyes were just green enough to let himself get lost in them. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So one of the writers for the game confirmed that Claude is a false name, and that his birth name is Khalid. I wasn't going to include anything from Cindered Shadows (and this detail was clarified after it released), but it felt a little unfaithful to his parents' characters, now knowing his birth name, that they wouldn't call him by his proper name in safe spaces. I also firmly believe that's why they use 'boy' and 'kiddo' so much - they don't want to slip and call him the wrong name. He's still Claude to us, though, so those are the only times I changed it.


	11. Chapter 11

He woke up about half an hour before sunrise and, unsurprisingly, was still not alone. 

He’d gone for a drink after yesterday’s round table conference. He hadn’t stayed long in Almyra after he completed his Hunt; as soon as he’d heard that his grandfather had taken a turn for the worse, he’d flown back to Derdriu. He’d barely made it back in time to say his final goodbyes. He’d been in Derdriu ever since. 

Since returning to Fódlan, it had been nothing but conferences and war tables, and challenging ones at that. The Alliance was divided, thanks to pressure from the Empire and, as always, Count Gloucester. It was taking all of his political savvy to keep the entire Alliance from turning in on itself. 

He’d met this woman next to him at the pub. He was tired and stressed and wound-up, and she was clearly a noble-hunter who knew exactly how to get what she wanted. 

He sighed and slid out of bed, careful not to disturb her too much. He started getting dressed as he crossed the room, hoping she would leave at a decent time and not force him to force her out. 

Thankfully, they’d both been a little tipsy when they arrived here the night before, meaning he’d have a fairly easy time getting her to take the fennel root mixture before she left. He’d perfected the recipe over the years since he’d had to make it all the time for Hilda. It was stable enough now that he could turn it into a hot mint and floral tea, and leave the drinker none the wiser. 

The coals were still burning in his fireplace of his public wing bedroom from the night before. He poked them around a little, and then placed the kettle - full, thanks to the house staff - onto the coals to warm up. He then opened the drawer where he kept his various vials of potions and poisons, and picked one out, pulling the stopper and tipping it out into a tea cup. For good measure, he went into another drawer and took out a few mint leaves, some small dried lavender blooms, and a dried slice of ginger root, dropping them into the teacup with the potion. 

He had  _ just  _ pulled the kettle off the coals to pour tea when the woman in his bed began to stir. Unfortunately, he couldn’t remember her name. He poured hot water into the tea cup with the fennel root mixture, and carefully carried it over to the bed for her. 

She sat up and stretched, arching her back and throwing her hands in the air. As soon as she relaxed again, she put a hand up to her forehead and groaned. 

“Good morning,” he said, offering her the tea. “Headache?”

“I always get one after drinking.” 

“Here, it’ll help take the sting away.” 

She smiled in thanks and took a sniff. “I love ginger.” 

_ Perfectly covered up. She’ll never know.  _ “It’s a great energizer,” he agreed.

She sipped at her tea contentedly as he got up to look over his agenda for the day. The date was marked as the 20th of the Ethereal Moon. 

The millennium festival wouldn’t be happening, thanks to the current state of affairs. Garreg Mach had been abandoned since it was attacked almost five years ago, save for a skeleton crew of Imperial scouts and whatever ruffians they couldn’t be bothered to drive out. But he had promised that he’d return, and if he intended to keep that promise, it was best if he left at some point today, to give himself extra time. 

Besides that… he needed a break. He was stretched to his limit with stress. It would do everyone a favour if he could get away for a little while. 

He made sure he could see the woman from the corner of his eye at any given time as he ensured he’d be able to get away. Thankfully, his father - who was posing as one of his retainers, much to his own amusement - would be here to take care of matters in his stead. 

The woman finished her tea with a sigh and then got out of bed, putting the cup down on a nearby desk and beginning to collect her things. “I won’t bother you any longer,” she told him as she finished getting dressed. “Thank you for your kindness.” 

“Thank  _ you _ for yours,” he answered her. “Please, get home safely.” 

“I will,” she promised, and then she was gone. 

As soon as she left, Claude heaved a relieved sigh and began packing a bag to leave. He worked quickly, antsy to begin his journey. 

About two hours later, he was in his private aviary, putting the finishing touches on getting Sothe ready for the flight. He’d touched base with his father already, and was confident that the dukedom was in good hands. He triple checked all the buckles on Sothe’s saddle before finally climbing on and securing Failnaught in its holder in front of him. 

Sothe cooed at him as he climbed on. 

“It’s been a while since you really got to stretch your wings, girl. Ready for a good, lengthy flight?” 

She crooned back in response, bouncing between her feet. He walked her out to her landing pad, and then took a moment to look around. 

_ I’ll be back soon. _

“Alright, girl.  _ Yip yip!” _

Sothe gave a great flap of her wings, propelling them upward, and roared her delight at the skies as they rose high above the city of Derdriu. Claude smiled to himself as he corrected their path, pointing her southward and nudging her forward. He would definitely be uncomfortable by the time the day was done. 

He just hoped he wasn’t making this trip in vain. 

  
  


* * *

  
  
  


His trip to Garreg Mach was uneventful. The weather had been good, even giving them the luck of a tailwind. They arrived early the morning of the 24th. He took some time to circle the monastery, picking off the Imperial scouts lining the perimeter of the property before finally landing in the Academy Courtyard. 

He undid his leg braces and slid off of Sothe’s back, pulling his flying scarf off his face as he landed. He didn’t expect to get so emotional being back here. His breath kept catching in his throat. 

This place… it pained him to see it so empty. The ghostly laughter and screams alike seemed to bounce around the stone walls, carried by the gentle, crisp winter breeze. There was a light dusting of snow across the grassy ground, wilted wildflowers pushing through the frost in a desperate attempt to feel sunlight. 

His feet carried him toward the old Golden Deer classroom. The banners out front were worn and tattered, uncared for, their colours washed out by the elements. The doors were wide open, setting a familiar and heartbreaking scene. 

Claude smiled sadly as he walked inside, sitting down in his old seat. If he closed his eyes, he could almost pretend he was back there: the sounds of Leonie and Lysithea bickering over tactics, of Hilda talking over Lorenz in an attempt to get him to shut up, of Sylvain getting whacked with a stack of papers when he got too carried away… and the sound of Byleth laughing along with them, perched on the front edge of her desk, about to tell them to pack up so they could head over to the training grounds. 

His smile faded as he opened his eyes. He was alone, here. The dust was thick on the desktops. What paperwork she’d had on her desk had been blown all over the room, unreadable. 

What he wouldn’t give to have her back. 

Sothe cooed at him from the classroom doorway. She’d followed him partway in. He didn’t realize he’d started to cry until he realized he couldn’t see her properly. 

“I’m okay, girl,” he murmured, but it rang through the room. He took one last look around, and then made his way back out to her. She backed out of the doorway to let him pass. 

He led her back out to the open courtyard, and then hopped back up into the saddle. “Yip yip,” he told her. She turned to look at him with a purr of concern, and then unfurled her wings, carrying them high over the peaks of the monastery roofs. 

He took the rest of the day to fly around the cathedral, taking stock of the external structural damages, watching the thieves as they went about their day-to-day business in one of the nearby villages. As it closed in on lunch time, Claude landed in the aviary section of the stables. The floor was frozen beneath his feet, covered in ice and snow. 

Sothe nibbled at his shirt as he slipped, keeping him on his feet. He rubbed her snout in thanks. She tugged on his shirt, trying to pull him back toward the saddle, and he laughed at her and conceded. “Alright, girl, okay,” he told her as he climbed back on. She walked him across the room, her claws crunching the ice under her paws as she went. 

He sat on her back and let her take some time to explore the room. She dug up a few rat nests, gobbling the poor creatures up whole as they desperately tried to escape her. The old hay under the ice had turned into earth; in a few places, Claude could see dead grass that had sprouted. It was a good thing there was stone beneath the wooden floor, otherwise he worried that they could fall through. 

They took off to make a quick hunting trip, and then returned to the aviary. Sothe dug a hole so that Claude could start a small fire. 

“I haven’t been back here since the war started,” Claude said. Sothe, who was curled comfortably around him and the fire, opened her eyes to watch him as he spoke to her. “It’s kind of painful to be back here, but at the same time, I feel like I’ve just come home.” 

Sothe let out a huff of air. 

“I never did quite fit in in Almyra  _ or _ in Derdriu.” He poked the fire and, satisfied that it was hot enough, put down a large, flat rock to heat up so that he could cook the rabbit he’d hunted. “This was the first place that anyone didn’t look at me or treat me like I was an outsider.” 

> _ “I don’t see you as an outsider.”  _
> 
> _ “Thanks, Teach.”  _

The memory caused his breath to catch in his throat. 

Sothe shuffled as if she were trying to get closer to him. She rearranged her wing and settled back in. 

“We all promised we’d come back here for the millennium festival, but… well, the festival obviously isn’t going to be happening. I just wanted to have a fun class reunion, to remember all of the times we all shared together while we were students here. I wonder if any of the others will come, too.” 

> _ “Don’t forget, Teach. You and I  _ will _ meet here again.”  _
> 
> _ “I promise.”  _

_ You promised me, Byleth. Please. I would give anything to have you back.  _

He finished making his dinner in silence, and then simply sat with Sothe, staring up at the early afternoon sky. 

“Are you comfortable here, girl?” he asked her. She snorted, not even bothering to open her eyes. He chuckled at her. “I’ll take that as a yes. I’m going to go find my old bedroom, okay? I need a proper bed to sleep on tonight.” 

Sothe grunted and shuffled until she was in her mount position. 

“Thanks, Sothe.” Claude climbed on her back and held tight to her neck as she lifted off from the aviary, leaving her saddle behind. He had her drop him off in the Academy Courtyard again, and from there, he wandered around toward the training ground and the student’s dorms. 

Byleth’s old room’s door was closed. He was tempted to open it and take a peek in her room, but something stopped him. He took his time walking down the row of student rooms. The greenhouse was in good shape, he saw as he turned past it to head up to the second floor of the student dorms. He could only imagine how overgrown it must have become. 

He paused for a moment outside of his old dorm room. Its door was closed, too. He sucked in a deep breath and reached for the door handle. It turned without resistance, and his door swung open with only the smallest of squeaks. It looked exactly like he’d left it: bed disheveled, only roughly made, books  _ everywhere _ . There was less dust on everything than he expected, likely due to the room being well-enclosed. The air was stuffy, so he opened a window a crack before shaking out his old bedsheets. 

He laid down, thoughts and memories whirling in his mind until he fell asleep, rather unintentionally. Perhaps it was something to do with being back here. He couldn’t pinpoint a specific dream, but he tossed and turned, and woke feeling troubled a couple of hours later. 

Claude swung his feet over the edge of the bed and yawned, stretching. He’d wanted to do some more wandering before the day was done. Maybe taking in the sights again would help him shake off whatever was upsetting his sleep. 

He followed his feet, once again, like so many times before, not paying attention to where they were leading him. They always seemed to take him to the same place, in the end. 

His heart beat loudly in his chest a few times as he climbed the steps from the bridge up to the cathedral. He paused there, staring inside. He could see a pile of rubble near the front of the room. Sadness washed over him to see the cathedral empty. 

_ Fate. Miracles. We talked about that just over there, _ he thought to himself as he turned away from the cathedral, circling left around its outer wall.  _ I should have known that Fate would be cruel, and that Miracles come at a cost.  _

He looked up at the Goddess Tower as he approached it.  _ I wonder…  _ The door was unlocked, so he shrugged to himself and let himself in. 

He remembered the first time he’d climbed these stairs. His feet had been tired from dancing. He’d been getting overwhelmed, was desperately looking for a place to look up at the night sky and have a quiet moment to himself, but he’d found himself with company not long after he arrived. 

_ We talked about ambitions here. Prayed to the goddess housed within her to grant us those ambitions. I always wondered what that hope of hers was...  _

Claude sighed as he watched the late afternoon sun descend toward the horizon from the Goddess Tower. The view was just as brilliant as he’d hoped it to be. The pink and orange hues that were just starting to paint the sky would have been more tranquil if they didn’t remind him so much of the last time he’d been here. 

So many bodies. So much blood. Fire, everywhere. He still dreamed of the smell, sometimes. 

He shook his head to clear the memories of war away and focused on the sounds around him. 

Nature had started to reclaim parts of the monastery, and the Goddess Tower was no exception. Gentle wind whistled through the open windows, broken occasionally by the trill of birdsong. There were a few new nests along the roof. 

_ They promised they’d return.  _ Now that he was here, the thought repeated itself seemingly endlessly. It was becoming more frequent as the hours slipped away.  _ And so did Byleth.  _

He’d have been surprised if Lorenz showed up; they had never seen eye-to-eye, but things had escalated since the war began. Hilda’s absence surprised and upset him. He’d thought, if  _ anyone _ was going to show, it would have been her. 

Claude sighed again. There was no use dwelling on such things. Besides, he’d come here to give his poor, tired strategist mind a  _ break _ . He pushed off the edge of the balcony that he’d been leaning on, and continued his walk around the Tower at a slow, deliberate rate. The sound of flapping wings caught his attention, and he looked up in time to see a hawk breezing past the closest window, dropping out of his sight to land in what he could only assume was its nest. 

A wistful smile crossed his face as he continued to think back on the night of the ball.  _ That was a good night.  _ The smile melted away, replaced by a furrow between his brows. He’d had an idea, then, of what Byleth would come to mean to him - had already come to mean to him. But, at the end of the day, that was Teach that he met up here that night. Not Byleth. No matter how much he may have wished it would be. 

_ She’s not gone. Not really. She  _ can’t  _ be. She’ll be back.  _

After all these years, his heart did a poor job of convincing his mind on that one. Logic would tell him that she  _ was _ gone. But his heart…  _ She is blessed by the Goddess of Fódlan. If  _ anyone _ is still going to be alive after all of these years, it would be her. It  _ will _ be her. Just give it a few more hours.  _

His heart ached all the same. 

He slowed to a stop as the stairs back down to the cathedral came up ahead of him. He couldn’t descend them - not yet. The thought made him feel like he was giving up hope. And that was one thing he  _ knew _ he couldn’t afford to give up. 

Instead, he was drawn toward the open archway just past the stairs again, stopping just far enough inside that the sunlight could still reach him. Closing his eyes, Claude allowed the late-afternoon light to wash across his face, enjoying the splash of warmth that reminded him so much of home.  _ It would have been nice to share this with her… with all of them.  _

The distant  _ caw _ of birds drew him to open his eyes again. There was a whole flock, too far away for him to tell what they were, erupting from what looked like the Academy courtyard to take flight and circle lazily in the warmth. 

_ How nice it must be to be them, so blissfully unaware of the horrors of war shrouding this land. No need to fear what tomorrow will bring, or that a new letter will tell you that a loved one has died… There has  _ got _ to be a way to end this. To bring unity without the need for so much death. If only I had the confidence to - what was that?  _

Claude held his breath and stood very still on instinct. What had that noise been? He couldn’t be sure, but he hadn’t heard it since he returned, so he didn’t believe it was any of the local wildlife. 

Had he missed one of the Imperial scouts? Had someone followed him here? Where was the easiest dagger for him to grab? He shouldn’t have left Failnaught on Sothe’s saddle. 

Or… had someone else remembered? 

He wanted to drag himself out onto the balcony, or down the stairs, but for some reason, indecision gripped him.  _ Be careful, Claude. There are all kinds of unsavoury types around here these days. You can’t just assume it’ll be a friendly face.  _

There it was, again. A skittering pebble, just  _ barely _ audible. Faint humming, though he couldn’t make out the song. And boots, getting closer, climbing the stairs. 

_ No, it can’t be, _ Claude thought - logic trying to win out, as always - as the sound of the climbing came closer to him. He knew the sound of those boots. His heart began to beat furiously in his chest, but he remained rooted to the spot until the sound stopped, just a mere few feet away, at the top of the stairs. 

He took in one more deep breath before turning to look over his shoulder. 

Until the end of time, Claude was sure he’d never see a sight as beautiful and breathtaking as the one in front of him. “You overslept, Teach,” he teased. He smiled at her, unable to keep a straight face. His eyes stung as tears threatened to spill over for the second time that day.

She was staring at him with such concern; it was a look he couldn’t ever remember seeing before. It took over her whole face, making her green eyes sparkle as if she were on the verge of tears, herself. A tiny breath of fresh air blew through the opening, rustling her hair around her face. She looked…

_ Absolutely radiant.  _

She took a hesitant step toward him. And another. With each step, her concern seemed to melt away, replaced by open surprise. 

“Pretty rude to keep a fella waiting like that, wouldn’t you say?” He walked a few steps toward her, too, closing the distance she had left. She was still awestruck, but a little guilty furrow had come up between her brows. “What’s with that surprised look, my friend? You didn’t really think I’d given up on you coming back, did you?” 

She let out a breath through her nose and finally let her face melt into a smile - the same one she’d worn here once before _.  _ He looked back over his shoulder, to the sky outside. He felt vulnerable under her gaze. The sun was peeking out from behind some wispy clouds, streaming warmth onto the spot he’d just been standing in. 

“Can you feel it?’ he murmured. “A new dawn is finally here. Not just for us, though... no, for  _ all _ of Fódlan.” 

Claude took in another deep breath of air as he continued to stare out the doorway. 

“Claude?” Byleth’s voice was faint, but to his ears, it was like a siren’s call. He looked back down at her. He must have grown since she disappeared; he didn’t remember her seeming that short before. 

She was staring up at him through her lashes in a way that made his chest feel tight. He missed that feeling. “In the flesh.” He threw his arms out to his sides, casually, as if to say  _ take a look _ . He could feel heat rising to his face under her scrutiny. “It’s…really good to see you, Byleth. I always knew you’d keep our promise.” 

Her smile deepened, making the corners of her eyes crinkle, and she giggled a little as she stepped right up to him and hugged him tightly. His arms came back in, wrapping her up securely as she tucked herself under his chin. She’d buried herself face-forward into his chest. He laughed a little before turning his head sideways to rest his cheek on her hair. 

A few breaths of the scent of her, and he was more calm than he’d been since… well, really, since before she disappeared. He stayed still, allowing her to dictate how long this should go on, and it was a solid minute before she stirred to step away. 

He let her go, reluctantly. 

“I wasn’t sure that villager was being honest with me when I asked him the year, but seeing you here… I’m sorry it’s been so long.” 

Claude’s head seemed to start to shake of its own accord. “It’s been five  _ long _ years. Where have you been, Teach?” He heard the accusatory tone of his voice, and changed course. “You don’t  _ really _ expect me to believe you’ve been napping this whole time, do you?”

“I… don’t remember,” she murmured in response. 

He couldn’t seem to keep himself from chuckling at her. “That’s a good one! Except…that’s not your lying face.” It drew a reluctant smile from her, so he gave her a wink. “I guess I’ve got no choice but to believe you. You’re not exactly  _ normal _ to begin with, so it’s not a huge stretch to imagine you sleeping for that long.” 

Byleth scoffed in mock offense, and he laughed again as she reached out and punched him lightly in the gut. 

“Aaaaand this is where you say, ‘just kidding!’ Right? If this is a rib, now’s the time to fess up.” 

He knew the answer before even asking again. 

“No, it’s the truth.” 

“You must be insane.” His hand came up to meet his face as he shook his head again. “And yet… fine. I believe you, okay? But, that means… you don’t know anything that happened after your last battle, right? I guess it’s on me to catch you up.”

He gestured in a wide, sweeping motion. “As you can see, Garreg Mach was crushed by the Empire and never restored. The monastery is in ruins, and the town is in pretty bad shape, too. Can you guess why?” 

“Rhea has been sleeping, too?” 

Claude hadn’t really considered that before. “It would seem that’s one possible explanation, since you insist that’s what you’ve been up to. All we know for sure is that Rhea suddenly vanished during that battle five years ago, too. The Knights of Seiros have apparently been searching all over Fódlan for her… but the fact that this place is in ruins tells me they still haven’t found her.”

Byleth was staring at his feet. “I’m worried,” she admitted after a few seconds of silence. 

“Worried, huh? Well, for better or worse, Rhea was clearly fond of you. But I’m not so sure whether it would be good for her to return as the archbishop… Rather, with her gone-” 

He watched as Byleth’s look of concern morphed into a painful curiosity. “Uh, nevermind. This could be a dangerous conversation.” Byleth took in a deep breath, and Claude continued to watch her as she put a hand up to her stomach, as if it would mask the growling sound that had just rumbled out of it. “Before we discuss the state of affairs in each territory… are you hungry? You must be.” 

Colour flooded Byleth’s cheeks as she laughed sheepishly. 

“It’s not much, but I did bring some food with me. Let’s eat, and go from there.” 

“Thank you.” 

“Well? Shall we?” Claude offered her his arm and another wink. She giggled again as she took it. The sound was the most beautiful of music to his ears. 

He led her back toward the stairs, hoping to find a more appropriate place to eat, and descended in silence. 

“Claude?” Byleth broke the silence when they were about halfway down the stairs.

“Yes?” 

“It’s… um, it’s really good to see you, too.” 

There was nothing that could stop the surge of contentedness that washed through Claude upon hearing those words. He smiled, and continued to lead the way in silence, dreaming of a day when they could do this again in a peaceful land. 

  
  


* * *

  
  
  


Claude should have known that their class reunion would be like this. 

The sun was finally beginning to rise in the east, painting rose-coloured light across the valley. It looked like everyone had made it, except for Ashe. Laughter filled the air of the empty village as his classmates all said their hellos. There were hugs, and happy tears, and they were all covered in blood. 

Just like old times. 

Hilda yawned loudly, turning her attention to Byleth. “Ugh, I’m  _ exhausted _ . What gives, Professor?”

The class fell quiet, falling into their usual gaggle. As if they’d done this last only yesterday. Lysithea nodded. “I was so excited to see everyone again, and then  _ this  _ happens…” 

“I’m still tired from the long journey,” Leonie added with a yawn. “How did it come to  _ this _ ?” 

“Let’s all take a - take a moment to -  _ whew.” _ Ignatz shook his head a few times, quickly, to shake off a yawn of his own. “To catch our breath.” 

Hilda had that look in her eyes again. “If you’ve got the spare time to play with those guys -” she nodded back over her shoulder at a pair of dead bodies “- the least you could do is prepare some tea.” 

“Blame Claude,” Byleth told her. The class all gave an accusatory  _ ooh _ at hearing that one. 

“Oh come on, those guys were  _ thieves _ . We couldn’t just let ‘em get away!” he claimed in his defence. 

But Byleth was smiling at him, a little mischievous grin he didn’t think he’d ever seen before. 

“It seems they’ve been taking advantage of the church’s absence and doing whatever they please here,” he continued. 

“In any case, um…” Marianne was smiling, her back straight and shoulders square. It was nice to see. “I’m glad that all of you are well.” 

“That’s the spirit, Marianne!” Ignatz said. 

Raphael was finishing up a round of stretches. “That was fun! In fact, I wouldn’t mind romping around some more!” 

Lorenz chose to ignore him, evidently. “So, you were alive this whole time, Professor. I am not surprised. In fact, that is why I came here.” 

“ _ And _ it doesn’t look like time has rusted your skills,” Leonie added. “That’s a relief.” 

“Actually, Professor, it looks like time hasn’t even touched you. You’re as lovely as ever.” 

Petra smacked Sylvain for that one. 

“I think what he means to be saying is that… it is good to be - it is good to see you.” 

“I’m just glad everyone’s alive and well. Except… I don’t see Ashe,” Claude added. 

Sylvain took a deep breath and looked down at his boots. “I - I’m sorry,” he murmured. “I tried to talk to him, but after what happened with the church and Lonato…” 

He didn’t finish his sentence, but he didn’t need to. There was a moment of silence amongst the group as they came to terms with the news. 

Claude cleared his throat, and they all looked up at him and Byleth again. “On a happier note, let’s move this reunion party somewhere else.” 

Byleth nodded. “Let’s head back to the monastery and get some rest, everyone. You’ve earned it.” 

  
  


* * *

  
  
  


They’d all slept until about lunchtime, and then congregated in the cathedral. 

There was more socializing, more getting caught up, more of the usual pointless bickering. Claude had stood aside and watched it all happening, until Byleth walked in. 

The entire class fell silent at her approach. She looked between Claude and the rest of them, trying to figure out what was going on. 

“I was just thinking…” Claude started. “Now that we’ve dealt with those violent bandits, we could potentially use this place as our base of operations again.” 

Byleth nodded at him almost absently, but the rest of them shuffled nervously and looked around at each other, confused. “What could you possibly mean by that?” Hilda asked after about ten seconds of uncomfortable silence. 

“I’m talking about the Leicester Alliance taking over Garreg Mach Monastery,” he told her pointedly. “After all, it’s  _ right _ in the middle of Fódlan. It’s a critical strategic location.” 

Leonie was nodding along with him, too. 

Lysithea’s eyes were wide. “Are you suggesting that we fight back against the Empire?” 

“Aren’t you getting a bit ahead of yourself? The Alliance is in complete discord at present,” Lorenz challenged him. 

Claude heaved an irritated sigh. “ _ And _ , as leader of the  _ Imperial _ faction of the Alliance, isn’t Count Gloucester,  _ your _ father, the main cause of that discord?” 

“I… yes. That is true.” Lorenz sounded defeated. Disgraced, even. “It was inevitable. Our house’s territory is close to Imperial land, after all. Had we not consented to vassalage under the Empire, they would have invaded  _ immediately _ .” 

“Naturally,” Claude agreed - for once in his life. “And to be clear, I have no problem with your house maintaining its Imperial ties until we’re sufficiently prepared to revolt. The Empire are the cause of the infighting. If we rid ourselves of them, the situation should resolve itself.  _ That’s  _ why I’m thinking we should make this our base, raise up an army, and stir up some trouble for the Empire.” 

Raphael boomed out an enormous laugh. “ _ Now _ you’re talking. Sounds like fun!” 

“So, then, Mr. Leader Man. Does this mean you intend to rope us into your little scheme?”

Hilda’s question made him smile a little wider. Had he been scheming? Truthfully, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d managed one, and yet… here he was. Scheming. 

Oh, but it was good to have Byleth back. 

Her voice pulled him out of his own head. “Leader Man?”

“Hm? Ah. Missed that part. My grandfather passed away,” he explained. “That means yours truly is  _ officially _ the leader of the Alliance.” 

“If we had a more reliable leader, perhaps the Alliance would not have been divided…” Lorenz muttered. 

“Think what you will,” Claude shot back. He didn’t have the time for this. “All I need to know is if you’re in, or if you’re out.” 

“I’m happy to lend a hand,” Leonie offered first. “I won’t let those Imperial dogs set foot in Alliance territory. I couldn’t bear it if my village got caught up in the chaos of war.”

“I’ll fight too,” Raphael added. “I’ve gotta protect my little sis.” 

“I will join as well. After all, House Ordelia was once dragged into an Imperial revolt. It ruined us.” 

Lorenz was still looking at his boots. “Ah, of course. I understand your motivation.” 

“I’ll fight too. It’s time I take responsibility for my own future,” Ignatz declared. 

“I… I don’t want to run anymore. I hope I’ll be of use to everyone.” 

Ignatz smiled back at her. “We can do  _ anything _ if we work together, Marianne.” 

Petra and Sylvain shared a quick look before giving Claude a solemn nod. That was even more than what he’d accounted for. Even if Petra couldn’t get help from Brigid due to their Empirical ties, having Sylvain on board meant the potential of some small external help from the Kingdom.

“And what about you, Lorenz?” Hilda chimed in. “Are you going to go back home to your scary father, or what?” 

“We cannot rely on Claude’s scheming to lead us to victory. Therefore, I will remain. It is my duty to ensure Claude does not worsen the situation in the Alliance.” 

_ However you need to justify it, Gloucester. But I’m keeping my eye on you.  _ He almost laughed out loud to see the daggers that Byleth was shooting at Lorenz with a look. Lorenz seemed to be able to feel it; he was distinctly turned away from her gaze. 

“All of us are fighting for a different reason, but we share a common enemy. If we don’t act, the Empire will crush us eventually. I say we stop them before they have the chance. So, Teach… will you help as well?” 

Byleth turned her gaze to him. There was fire in her eyes. He noticed her flexing her sword hand. “I…” She heaved a deep sigh, and the fire was replaced with worry. “I’ll give it some thought.” 

Claude’s heart sank a little. He had expected her to jump on board right away. “Please do. I’m counting on you. Even if your ultimate goal  _ is _ to find Rhea, it would be better to stick with us as you search. With you on our side, the church will join us as well. That makes fighting the Empire a  _ moral _ cause, which means it will be easier to rally support. Above all, your knowledge and strength are indispensable if we hope to stand a chance against the Imperial army.” 

He looked into her eyes, and the mask of politics melted away. For just a moment, he forgot their audience and became Claude again. Not the crown prince of Almyra, or the leader of the Alliance, or any of it. He was just a man, begging a woman to stay at his side. “Without you, my schemes are  _ nothing _ . Just… words. Please… Take all of that into consideration as you decide.” 

Hilda giggled brightly. “You’re really laying it all on the table, aren’t you, Claude?” 

Claude blinked a couple of times and swallowed thickly. It took all of his discipline to keep a neutral expression as someone else snickered. 

“Well, all that aside, this place is a  _ mess _ ,” Hilda continued. “We can’t very well make our base in a ruin! And repairing it sounds like a  _ lot _ of work… I wonder if anyone would be willing to help us out with that?” 

“Sounds like it’s time for Raphael to get in some training. What do you want done first?” 

“Leave some work for me, big guy,” Sylvain told him as he patted him on the back. 

“How about we start by cleaning up and containing the rubble in here?” Hilda suggested. 

“Alright! Let’s go, Sylvain.” 

“We should take a full survey of the place, see if there are any areas that could use more work, or areas that are so structurally unsound that we can’t go there,” Hilda suggested, walking backwards in the direction that Raphael and Sylvain had gone. “Will you come take a look with me, Claude? I just want to give these guys a bit more direction, and then we can head out.” 

“Sure,” he agreed. “Where do you want to-” 

The doors of the cathedral creaked open. Everyone turned their attention toward them, frozen in place, hands flying toward weapons. 

The people in the doorway stopped dead in their tracks, and then a familiar green-haired man ran in, the others hot on his heels. The sounds of their boots on the stone rang around the room in a near deafening cacophony. 

“Can it be? You were alive all this time?!” Seteth stopped short of Claude and Byleth. He almost looked like he wanted to hug her; his arms swung outward toward her and then, rather suddenly, he folded them across his chest. 

“Professor! It is so good to see you again. My brother and I were worried about you.” 

Alois let out a booming laugh before bending forward, putting his hands on his knees. “Ah, thank the goddess… I couldn’t bear the thought of letting Jeralt down by not finding you.” 

“Guess you lucked out.” 

Catherine nodded in agreement to Shamir. “We’ve been looking everywhere for you! But… I see Lady Rhea isn’t with you. Damn.” 

An unfamiliar voice sounded in the crowd. “Everyone was real worried about you, Professor.” 

Claude felt his eyes go wide. “Cyril? Is that you?! You’ve grown up, kid. Have you been looking for Rhea with the knights?” 

Cyril nodded at him. “Of course. Without Lady Rhea, I don’t belong anywhere.” 

“Cyril, that’s not…” Claude sighed. The irony of wanting to tell him that he shouldn’t need to find belonging in another person was not lost on him. “Nevermind. We’ll figure it all out.” 

Claude watched Cyril as Manuela and Hanneman discussed old matters with Byleth and Seteth. He was growing up into a handsome boy. No doubt in a few more years, all the Almyran ladies would want to eat him up - if he ever went back.  _ Maybe this would be a good chance to give him some little tastes of his culture. _

He tuned back in as Seteth was informing them of his search results. “... to set foot in Empire territory, we are at a standstill. We had hoped that perhaps the archbishop would return here on this day… that of the long-awaited millennium festival.” 

“Unfortunately, that doesn’t seem to be the case,” Claude told him. He was already two steps ahead in this conversation, a plan made and in motion. “Though, I don’t suppose you had very high hopes in that regard. Even if she  _ were _ to return here, with the monastery in ruins, I don’t think she would have felt safe enough to do so. Right, Hilda?” 

Hilda, thankfully, caught on to what he was getting at. “Yeah! This is an important location for the church. To think you’ve left it in such a state!” 

They had the sense to look slightly chagrined, but when Byleth spoke, they looked properly shameful. “The believers are mourning this destruction.” 

“That’s true,” Alois agreed with a heavy sigh. “Perhaps we’ve left it alone for too long. We’ve got to make things right!” 

“I can clean this place up like new,” Cyril announced. “You’re right. It’s not fit for Lady Rhea like this.” 

“And leaving this place in ruins affects the safety of this area, too,” Catherine added. 

“Agreed. There is also a great deal of valuable literature here.” 

Ignatz gave Hanneman a winning smile. “Then let’s do it! If we all work together, we can restore the monastery to its original beauty!” 

Seteth nodded. His usual stern, no-nonsense, get-shit-done demeanor was back. “We will require the aid of skilled craftsmen. I shall seek out any such individuals who are willing to return to Garreg Mach.” 

“Fantastic! I’ll figure out how to split up the work, and then we can get started!” Hilda called the boys back over. “In that case, let’s just relax for the rest of today. We’ll have plenty of work to do soon enough.” 

“Yes, that is a good idea,” Seteth agreed. “I shall do my part. As soon as I have found what we require, I will inform you all.” 


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Suggestive themes, and a canon dialogue dump.

Claude became a glorified messenger as repairs took place. Granted, he and Seteth were the only two fliers in the group, which made them best suited for carrying information. Sothe, at the very least, wasn’t complaining. She got to stretch her wings and make all kinds of new friends.

Leonie and Petra started hunting extra rabbits and rats to feed her when they saw her. Byleth usually had some fireweed, though where she had found any, he had no idea. The first time Sothe ate it out of Byleth’s hand, Claude almost pinched himself to see if he was dreaming. It had taken _weeks_ for him to get to that point with her, and Byleth had her deepest trust from the third time they’d met. 

“She must really like you,” Claude told her. Byleth simply smiled at him while she rubbed Sothe’s snout. 

The monastery as a whole was in better shape than they all expected. After about a week of hard work, they all found themselves in the cathedral again. 

They’d all been too busy getting the monastery back in working order to have much time to socialize, and so Claude hadn’t really had any time to talk to Byleth alone since they started. 

He’d found her and Hilda alone together when he walked in. Whatever conversation they were having, they stopped when they realized he was there. 

“Good work, Hilda!” he said loudly once he was close enough to be in conversation range. She hadn’t done much manual labour herself, but… “You managed to rope the knights into helping us restore the monastery.” 

Byleth nodded her agreement as Hilda replied. “Thanks, Claude, but all I did was piggyback on _your_ scheme. I saw your eyes telling me to make some magic happen.” 

“Hellooooooooo!” Alois’ voice rang through the cathedral. Catherine was at his side. They all fell silent and waited for the two of them to join them. “Thank you so much for your help with the restoration.” 

“Oh, please, it was nothing,” Hilda told him. She was laying it on thick. “We’re just doing our part as former students.”

“I’m told you even routed the bandits. That job _should_ have fallen to us. I’m sorry for the trouble,” Catherine added. 

Claude and Byleth both shrugged at her. “Hey, don’t think twice about it,” Claude assured her. “We’re all allies in the resistance against the Empire, right?” 

Catherine reached up to scratch her head. “The church _is_ at war with the Empire, but let’s be realistic. Wouldn’t it be better for the Alliance to eventually submit?” 

“The way I see it, the emperor wants to take over all of Fódlan and destroy the existing order of the world. I can’t see her allowing the Alliance to continue to exist. We’re in this just as deeply as you are. Actually…” _Now’s probably a good time to mention it._ “We were hoping to use this place as a base. The Empire begs to be meddled with, and we’re first in line.” 

“What?” Alois looked at him like he’d just seen a ghost. “Why would you want to make your base _here_ , of all places?” 

Claude cleared his throat quietly. “Garreg Mach is situated in the centre of Fódlan, both geographically _and_ spiritually. We want to secure this location while the Empire is still overlooking it.” 

“I see,” Catherine mumbled. “The Empire doesn’t see this place as important at the moment because it’s far from the front lines.” 

Claude gestured approvingly toward her. Behind them, he saw Seteth appear in the doorway, walking quickly toward them. “But if we simply decide that it’s ours to occupy, that does nothing to inspire the hearts and minds of the people of Fódlan. Luckily, good ol’ Teach has finally returned to us.” He watched colour flood up to Byleth’s cheeks. He offered her a smile before continuing again. “If the professor Rhea entrusted with the Sword of the Creator fights at our side… Well now. _That’s_ a just cause _anyone_ could get behind. What’s more, here we are, working alongside the legendary Knights of Seiros. It smacks of divine providence, doesn’t it? Can you feel it?” 

Seteth came to a halt next to him. “I have heard what you have to say, Claude,” he told him. Claude nodded. Seteth turned his attention toward Byleth. “And you, Professor? Where do you stand?” 

Claude held his breath. 

Byleth’s answer was strong, steady, and decisive. “I will fight the Empire.” 

Claude clenched his teeth together to keep his face from splitting into a wide, if relieved, smile. _She’s with us. We have a chance!_

“Hm…” Seteth put a hand up to his chin. He mused in silence for a few seconds. “On our own, we lack sufficient military strength. But with the help of the Alliance…” 

Claude watched Seteth look around the room, his gaze landing squarely on Byleth at the end. “The archbishop said if anything should happen to her, that we should entrust the affairs of the church to you,” Seteth announced. “If you intend to fight alongside the Alliance, then I will follow you as well. Is that acceptable, Claude?” 

Claude let out a little laugh, and this time, he let himself smile. “Of course. I can’t think of anything more reassuring than having both Teach and the knights on our side. Together, we’ll stop the Emperor and her reckless ambitions!” 

“Excellent. In that case, I have a great deal of work to do. Please, excuse me.” Seteth turned and walked back the way he came. Alois and Catherine dismissed themselves with a wave and followed him out. 

“Wow, Claude. I knew you were good, but seeing you work…” Hilda shook her head in disbelief. 

Claude shrugged. “I’m just telling them what they already know, Hilda.” 

She rolled her eyes. “I’m going to go let the others know the good news,” she told them, and then waved goodbye herself, humming a tune as she took one of the side doors out of the cathedral. 

Leaving Claude and Byleth alone. 

They stood in silence, watching Hilda leave. Byleth broke it once Hilda was on the other side of the doorway. 

“You don’t need to call me Teach all the time, anymore,” she told him. 

“Hm?” He hadn’t expected her to say that. He looked down at her, but she was looking at her hands held nervously in front of her. 

“I’m not your professor anymore. You don’t need to call me Teach all the time.” 

“What would you rather, then? _O’ Enlightened One?”_

She looked up at him finally and grimaced. “Well, if it’s one or the other…” 

He chuckled at her. “It’s a respect thing. You were our Professor, and because that’s what they know you as, that’s going to stick.” 

“Yeah, but…” She sighed. “Back then, I was the leader of things. Now, that’s you.” 

“I wouldn’t sell yourself short like that,” he countered. “You’re more than just some foot soldier, sent in to be arrow fodder. You’re the heart of this army, already. You inspire everyone who has the pleasure of knowing you. Do you know how hard convincing Seteth to cooperate would have been without you here?” 

“So I’m a figurehead, then.” 

“No.” His answer was firm. “You know you’re more than that, Byleth.” 

She smiled that mischievous smile at him again. “See? Was that so hard?” 

He smiled back and shook his head at her. 

They were silent for another ten seconds or so. “I guess what I mean, is… I don’t _mind_ being called Teach, or Professor, or… whatever. Just… it’s not necessary anymore. Particularly in moments where… well, like this.” 

He nodded. “I get it. I swear, if _anyone_ here tried to actually call me _Duke Riegan_ …” 

Byleth gave him an understanding smile. 

“You want to go get some food? I’m getting hungry,” he asked her. She nodded, and they began their walk back to the meal hall. 

“You know, Byleth, I was surprised you didn’t want to join us right away,” he admitted as they crossed the bridge. 

She sighed. “It wasn’t that I didn’t want to join you. I just… I really feel like we need to find Rhea. Something in my gut won’t let me let it go. But you were right, of course. My best chance of finding her is in bringing down the Empire. And, truthfully… no matter how important it may seem, I can’t ignore how many people are suffering. Something needs to be done.” 

“Well, I’m glad we have you on our side. For now, let’s just focus on building our strength. Once we have a sizeable enough force, we’ll worry about the details.” 

  
  


* * *

  
  


Claude looked down at Byleth at his side. She nodded at him. 

He’d called their friends and allies to the Reception Hall to make an important announcement. He didn’t expect to feel so nervous about making it, but this was huge. This would determine their trajectory moving forward. 

There was a makeshift stage at one end that him and Byleth were standing on, along with about half a dozen other soldiers. The rest of the room was packed to the gills with people, half Alliance, half church. 

Claude cleared his throat and began to speak. 

“Everyone, listen up! I have a proposal.” 

The room fell into a hush. Thankfully, the acoustics were good, and he wouldn’t need to shout too loudly. 

“We are now building our forces in order to rise up against the Imperial army. But it wouldn’t be smart for us to fight under the banner of the Alliance.”

The Alliance soldiers in the crowd cheered loudly for a few seconds. Claude gave them time to show their pride. 

“Fighting under the banner of the Alliance would only incite the lords who support the Empire. We’ve also combined forces with the Knights of Seiros.” 

The Knights gave a loud _hoo-rah!_ in unison. 

“Therefore, I suggest we operate under a new symbol.” Claude paused for dramatic effect. Murmurs of curiosity bounced off the walls as those gathered speculated. “That’s why I’ve prepared this.” 

Claude gestured behind himself and took a step to the side. Byleth mirrored his movement. Two soldiers stood directly behind them, supporting a furled-up standard, and they let it down to show the crowd. 

It unfurled elegantly with a _whoosh_. Displayed prominently, in a faded-red on black background, was the Crest of Flames. 

Instantly, the room went up in cheers and hollers. 

“You may recognize this as the Crest of Flames, which resides in Byleth,” Claude called out over the din. It quieted to an excited hum. “The phantom Crest that has reappeared after more than a thousand years. We’re attempting our own miracle, so it seems like a suitable symbol for us. So! Until we welcome the dawn of a new age in Fódlan… Let’s fight to the very end, as one, under the symbol of the Crest of Flames!” 

The room erupted in cheers, whistles, hollers of approval. He smiled to himself, and then shared a look with Byleth, before stepping off the stage. Taking it as a dismissal, the soldiers began to leave the Entrance Hall, leaving behind an air of hope and vigor. 

Hilda came to find him after the room emptied. 

“Impressive, Claude,” she told him. “Forget restoring the monastery. You’ve somehow roped everyone into fighting back against the Empire!” 

“If you’ll recall, I never technically asked _anyone_ to join us. If anything, we have Byleth’s achievements to thank. Though, now that you mention it, I guess I should express my gratitude.” He looked around, hoping to spot her, but she was nowhere to be found.

“I saw her heading toward the cathedral, I think,” Hilda offered. 

“Thanks.” Claude smiled at her and left. 

Claude wondered to himself if he was asking too much of Byleth as he crossed the bridge. Perhaps he _had_ been using her as a figurehead since returning here. Truthfully, none of this would work out without her. 

All the more important that he thanked her, then. 

She’d been a little distant since they’d returned. Granted, they had all been exceptionally busy. But he barely saw her at meal times, even. He’d taken to checking various different parts of the castle that she used to frequent, but hadn’t been able to find her anywhere. 

He looked into the mostly-empty cathedral, frowning to himself when he didn’t see her. He walked in to take a closer look, and then almost smacked himself for being such an idiot. 

He picked up his pace as he crossed the cathedral and exited out of the western door, headed for the Goddess Tower. The door was ajar; he pushed it open and climbed the stairs. 

“Hey, By. So this is where you’ve been.” Butterflies began to flutter in his stomach at the look she gave him when she turned around. “Without you, the knights never would have joined our cause. I could never pay you back for that.” 

She shook her head slowly, then gave him a smile. “Let’s do our best.” 

He smiled back and nodded. “Just leave it to me, Teach.” He took another couple of steps toward her unconsciously, making their conversation a more private one. She had to look up through her lashes to see him properly. “When this fight is over, I plan to see all of my dreams come to fruition - and yours, as well.” 

Her head tipped to the side. “What _are_ your dreams, Claude?” 

Despite all the time he’d been coy about it in his youth, he answered her without hesitation now. “Well, for example… to bust open Fódlan’s Throat.” 

Her eyes went wide with surprise. 

“There’s a massive fortress there, which is responsible for protecting the eastern border of the Alliance. I like to think of it as a lid on a bottle,” he explained. “The people of Fódlan only know a small part of the world. Their prejudices are born because they don’t know what lies beyond their borders. And the opposite is true, too: those outside of Fódlan don’t know about this place. Ignorance breeds discrimination. Whether you look inside the bottle or outside of it… if you really look, all you’ll find are people who you can get along with, if you only try. That’s why I want to bust open that lid, which is keeping us locked inside. Or destroy the bottle entirely.” 

She was silent for a new moments. “Are you going to tell our allies about this?” 

He threw his hands out to his sides and shook his head. “I’ll find the right time to bring it up,” he told her. “Even if I talked about it now, it doesn’t seem realistic, does it? First, we need to defeat the Empire, and restore peace to - huh?” 

They both looked toward the stairs as the sound of boots frantically pounding their way up to them reached their ears. 

Leonie stopped at the top of the steps, putting her hands behind her head, breathing hard. “Professor! Claude! We’re under attack!” 

Byleth instantly had her hand on the pommel of her sword. 

“I guess we’ll have to cut our conversation short,” he murmured quietly before turning to make the trip back down the stairs. Byleth was hot on his heels. “What’s going on, Leonie?” he asked as he breezed by. 

“It’s a small group, but some Imperial troops are headed this way. It looks like they were stationed nearby.” 

Claude sighed as he reached the bottom of the stairs and shoved the door open, holding it for Byleth and Leonie to come through behind him. “I’ve got to hand it to Edelgard… nothing gets past that woman.”

“Let’s take them down,” Byleth told him. 

“Alright! I’ll show you how much I’ve improved, Professor.” Leonie gave them a quick bow and then took off toward the stables. 

“This will be our first battle alongside the Knights of Seiros. Let’s kick off our new partnership with a magnificent victory!” 

  
  


* * *

_If there’s a reason to be grateful that Rhea isn’t here, anymore, it’s that I get to see this view._

It was the middle of the night. He couldn’t sleep; his mind refused to be quiet long enough to let him fall asleep, as it often did. He’d discovered this balcony only a few weeks ago, after the Imperial attempt to retake the monastery, but it was now his favourite place to come when he needed a break. 

It was across the hall from Rhea’s private room. This whole floor had been off-limits to them as students, for obvious reasons, but now, he could enjoy it to his heart’s content. 

Claude turned when he heard her footfalls. 

“Oh, hey there,” he said to her when she stopped at his side. “What are you doing up at this hour?” 

“I could ask you the same,” Byleth answered him. 

He sighed. “My brain’s just… busy. Thoughts keep going around and around in there, and meanwhile, my eyes are wide open. At times like this, I like to gaze up at the stars to clear my head. I’ve been that way since I was a kid.” 

She didn’t say anything. He looked down at her, and she looked up at him with a smile before turning her attention to the sky. 

He had missed this. Her comfortable, quiet company. Her patience. He never felt rushed with her. 

His voice was low when he spoke again. “Looking up at the big, starry sky makes my dreams feel small… which makes it feel like I can actually make them come true. I didn’t believe in gods when I was a kid. Maybe that’s because the night sky took their place for me.” 

She didn’t say anything to that, either. 

“Hey, Byleth?” He looked down at her at his side, and turned his attention toward her. She did the same. “Will you talk with me a while?” 

She smiled kindly and nodded. 

He smiled back. “I bet you’ve figured this out, but I wasn’t born in Fódlan. Where I come from, the people of Fódlan are looked down on as cowards. Technically, that cowardice runs in my veins - on my mother’s side, anyway. That’s why the people who were around me when I was growing up thought of me as an outsider. But - I don’t believe the people of Fódlan are cowards. That kind of perspective is just based on ignorance. The person from Fódlan who I know best is my mother. She fell in love with a man from the wrong side of the border, and had the guts to leave home to pursue that love. I always threw that in the faces of anyone who tried to make a fool of me.” He laughed quietly, a little sheepishly. “My mother is proof the people of Fódlan aren’t all cowards.” 

Claude sighed. He could feel his shoulders slouching. “Just saying that doesn’t achieve anything, though. I need to destroy the prejudices that have taken root in my homeland. That’s why I came here, to see Fódlan with my own eyes. I thought I might be able to find a new perspective that could help me change things. And what did I find? That the people here view anyone who’s an outsider as a beast of sorts! I was shocked. Even though our cultures and beliefs are completely different, our two lands have that much in common.” 

There was a sadness in the way Byleth looked up at him while he spoke. 

He heaved in another tired sigh. “That’s when I realized the only way to change things is to bring the whole world together and start anew. _That’s_ the dream I’ve been working toward since I first entered the Officer’s Academy five years ago. To unify the Alliance, and then _all_ of Fódlan - a-and to bring a new set of values to this land of mine… after that, I’d expand that vision to the rest of the world. Break down the walls and let a new perspective come rushing in! Start all over!” 

Silence again. 

“Do you think that’s just a crazy pipe dream?” he asked her. “Or a brilliant ambition?” 

She bit at her bottom lip for a moment. “Can you rise to the challenge of that ambition?” 

Claude looked down at his boots. “Not too long ago, I would have said that it was too much for me to accomplish on my own,” he admitted. “But… that’s not how I feel anymore. And that’s because I have _you_ on my side now. Lately, I’ve spent a lot of time thinking about how I wouldn’t have made it this far without you.” 

He stepped closer to her subconsciously. Her head tipped back so that she could keep her eye contact, exposing her throat. What he wouldn’t give to steal just a little taste of her. 

They were alone out here. What was stopping him? 

He stepped closer again. 

“You and me, Byleth.” His voice was barely above a whisper. “We can go anywhere. Do anything.” 

He was barely inches away, now. He reached forward to take her hands, and found them ready, waiting to be held.

“I hope… that you _always_ walk in step with me. At least until the day comes when we can look out at the peaceful world we’ve built. Together.” 

Her tongue peeked out to wet her bottom lip. The moment was perfect. He lost control of himself, desperate to feel her lips against his- 

A crow squaked nearby, making the two of them jump apart as if someone had blasted them with a Bolting, letting each other’s hands go. Byleth’s hand came up to cover her sternum as she looked for the source of the noise. 

Claude closed his eyes as his heart calmed. He took a few deep breaths before opening them again. 

Byleth was watching him. Her hand was still on her chest. “You okay?” 

“Yeah,” he told her, and then they laughed together, the tension lost. “I can’t remember the last time I was taken by surprise like that.” 

“It’s a good thing our hearts didn’t give out.” 

The night sounds surrounded them again as their laughter finally died. The tension had been lost, but so too had the moment. Claude smiled. “Well, By, I think I’ve kept you here long enough. It’s probably a good idea for us to go try to get some sleep again.” 

“I’m going to stay a few more minutes, catch my breath,” she told him. 

“Oh, okay. Well, then… goodnight, Byleth.” 

“Goodnight,” she replied with a small, private smile, before walking past him toward the obelisk behind him. He watched her go for a few seconds, and then decided to leave her to her thoughts, slowly making his way back to his room, and to bed. 

  
  


* * *

  
  


Claude pushed his hair back off his face for what was probably the tenth time in half as many minutes. Ailell was _hot_ . He was wearing too many layers for this shit. And he did _not_ have the patience for his mother’s attitude right now. 

“Can you quit calling me a boy in front of everyone?” he snapped at her, all appreciation for her help lost. “I’m the Leader of the Alliance now. It’s not proper-”

“Not proper, is it? Says the leader who has neglected Alliance territory for years,” Judith shot back easily. “If you’re really the _Master Tactician_ , you should go back to working quietly at whatever little desk you do your planning on.” 

Claude scoffed. “Don’t call me _that_ , either. Who even came up with that nickname?” he mumbled. He didn’t like the grin spreading across Byleth’s face. 

Judith barked out a laugh. “It’s a perfect title for a boy who loves crafty schemes as much as you do. You should be grateful to the professor. On your own, you’d look like a scoundrel of a leader.”

Claude just frowned at her, and pushed his hair back off of his face. Again. He was sure the sweat had ruined his gloves at this point. 

Hilda giggled behind him. “Claude’s usually so flippant, but even _he_ gets overwhelmed when Judith is around,” he heard her say quietly.

“As expected from the leader of the prestigious House Daphnel,” Lorenz answered her. “Her dignity is beyond compare, even if she is no longer one of the Five Great Lords.”

Byleth turned to look over her shoulder at them. “The Five Great Lords?”

“The five most influential lords of the Leicester Alliance. They hold the voting rights at the round table conferences,” Lorenz explained for her. “House Daphnel used to be included in their ranks, but division from within has hastened their decline.” 

_No, my mother just hated that shit, despite how good she was at it._

“Their vote has since been passed to the emerging Margrave Edmund.” 

“Thanks for the exposition, Gloucester boy.” 

“Boy?! I will not-”

“Now, to business,” Judith continued, cutting Lorenz off. Claude gave her his full attention again. She looked good. Healthy. If she was injured, she was hiding it well. “There were some unexpected interruptions, but I’ve brought soldiers and supplies, as promised.”

“Thanks, Judith. I’ll gladly take them off your hands.” 

“Hold your horses, boy. You’re misunderstanding.” 

Claude’s frown deepened as he regarded her. Just what was she playing at? 

“These soldiers are precious to me. I made them what they are. I’m not about to loan them out to someone.”

He took a deep breath to quell the frustration that was bubbling up in his chest. “No? Then why did you come here?”

“What I’m saying is that I’ll be joining your army. You’re going to fight the Empire with the Knights of Seiros, right? Fight for Lady Rhea? Not without me.” 

Claude’s first reaction was defiance. He didn’t need his mother breathing down his neck in this. _I am a_ grown man _, and I can lead these people!_ Quickly, though, it gave way to relief. His mother was a force of nature alone, and her soldiers were some of the finest in the Alliance. Plus, she ran the most reliable intelligence network he knew. 

He would be crazy to turn her away. Not that he had a choice in the matter. 

“That’s admirable and all, but we still don’t know for sure if Rhea is in the-”

“Oh, she’s there.” Shocked silence fell over them all. “A witness saw Lady Rhea being dragged off by the Imperial army after the battle five years ago.”

_You could have fucking told me that sooner, Mother!_

“Are you sure your source is reliable?” Alois blubbered out finally. 

“One of my own saw it happen. I’m certain.” 

“Then it seems we chose wisely when we decided to fight against the Empire.”

Claude shook his head. “But you’re the leader of House Daphnel. Is it okay for you to leave your territory unattended?”

“And what about you?” Judith shot back. “Is it okay for _you_ to leave the Riegan territory unattended?”

“That’s-” Claude sucked in an angry sigh through gritted teeth. Pushed his hair back. _Again_. “I’ve left it in the hands of a reliable retainer and-”

“And I’ve asked that retainer to watch over Daphnel territory as well.” 

Claude blinked rapidly a few times. This woman was _infuriating_ . “You just up and decided to get _my_ retainer to do that without even asking me? No respect, this one…”

“What retainer?” Byleth asked him. 

_My father_ , he wanted to answer, but Judith cut him off before he could. 

“Oh, you haven’t met him yet, Professor? His name is Nardel. He strikes me as a really _special_ individual. And he’s quite handsome, too.” 

Heat began to creep into Claude’s face. She always got this stupid little light in her eye when she talked about his father that made him feel like he needed to look away. “So _that’s_ your definition of handsome?”

She didn’t answer him, instead looking back toward Byleth. “No objections, then? Good. That settles it. House Daphnel is now yours to command.” 

“I’m sure you’d come along even if I refused,” Claude mused with a sigh. “So be it. We’ll be counting on you, Judith.” 

Judith gave him a smile, closing the distance between them to shake his hand. Claude made sure he took his glove off first. 

“Judith, some of us are taking a bit of a detour before heading back to the monastery. There’s an interesting lead on something in the Sreng region that we want to look into. Everyone knows why you’re here. Let Alois or Catherine know when you’re ready to march.” 

“One of these days, digging up long-dead secrets is going to be the end of you, boy,” Judith warned him, before turning her attention on Byleth. “Good thing he’s got you to watch his back, Professor.” 

“He’s quite capable on his own.” 

“Oh, I know. But even the best of warriors can be taken by surprise.” She gave them a wave. “Have fun, kids. I need to go get my men together.” 

Claude watched Judith walk away as he pulled his glove back on. “Let’s get the fuck out of here.” 

Byleth didn’t wait for him, nodding enthusiastically as she breezed past. “Where is Ashe?” 

He was close enough to spot, and as soon as she did, she made a beeline for him where he was standing with Sylvain. She called on a Heal as she reached out and touched his shoulder. 

Claude didn’t rush to join her, but he couldn’t help but watch. She was a marvel, equal parts deadly and nurturing. He was glad he was on her side. Would be glad to be _at_ her side, someday, in a less professional sense. If she even wanted him to be, of course. 

He was… optimistic on that front. 

Ashe gave Byleth a rough hug. She held him as his shoulders heaved with sobs, rubbing circles into his back. She called on another Heal as she did. 

Claude waited nearby as they went through whatever they were going through. After a few minutes, Ashe pulled away and wiped his face dry. 

“I’m sorry, Professor. I just - I should have known you wouldn’t die. But with you gone, I was so angry at the Church. It all just caught up with me.” 

“Well, I’m glad we found you. Are you sure you want to stay?” 

“Absolutely,” Ashe promised immediately, Claude was happy to see no hesitation or deception in him. “I’m with you from here, Professor. If you’ll have me.” 

“Welcome back,” Claude said finally, closing in on the conversation. Ashe turned to him with a grateful smile. “We’re headed to Sreng, you want to come along?”

“Sreng? What for?” 

“Looking into a legend surrounding Saint Macuil.” 

Ashe nodded. “Sure. Count me in.” 

  
  
  


* * *

  
  


“Claude?” 

Claude looked up from Jeralt’s desk sharply. Byleth had given him leave to use the office when he needed space for maps; there were few desks at their disposal that were both private enough _and_ large enough, save for this one. They would be leaving in the next few days to recapture the Great Bridge of Myrddin. He was working on strategies for invading the Empire after they captured it, and hadn’t heard anyone come in. 

He pushed his hair back out of his eyes and nodded in greeting before looking back down at his map. “Hey, Sylvain.”

“I didn’t expect to find you here,” Sylvain continued. By the sound of it, he was still in the doorway. “You might want to consider taking a break to get dinner, though.” 

“Mhmm. I will. In a bit. I just want to figure this out.” 

“Dinner service ends in like, twenty minutes.”

“What?” Claude looked up and behind himself, out the window. Sure enough, the faintest of pink hues was outlining the spires and towers of the monastery. “Good thing you found me here, or I’d have gone pretty hungry.” 

Sylvain didn’t say anything in response, but he didn’t move, either. Claude heaved a frustrated sigh and left his map, patting himself down for the key to the office that Byleth had given him so that he could lock the door behind himself. 

Sylvain followed him out into the hallway and waited for him to lock the door. Once Claude turned away from the door, Sylvain threw a friendly arm across his shoulders and steered him toward the stairs. 

“Claude, listen… you need to relax, man. I know it’s a lot of pressure, and responsibility, and what have you, but you should see yourself.” Sylvain took his arm back as they reached the stairs. “You are _tense_. People are worried about you.” 

“Hm?” That was news to him. He put his hand on the pommel of his new sword. The weight was still unusual on his hip. 

“Your shoulders are almost up around your ears,” Sylvain told him. “Everyone who’s trained with you the last moon and a half has said that you’re steadily falling off your game. Your attention is shorter. Thankfully, you’re still there with us when it matters, but we’re afraid that one time, it won’t be, and then…well, I have all the faith in the Professor in the world, but I don’t know if she could do it all without you here, too, you know?” 

Claude was silent. He _had_ been pretty wound up lately, if he was being honest with himself. It seemed like every spare waking moment was consumed with the reminder of Byleth’s hands in his, her touch warm and inviting, up on the third floor balcony. He’d been _so close_ … That was over a moon ago, now. It was hard to believe that much time had passed since. 

Anything and everything Byleth did these days seemed to make his blood roar. She’d had the gall to tuck some hair behind her ear at breakfast, just that morning, and he’d almost leaped across the table to pin her down, audience be damned. His body was starved, craving release that he didn’t have the luxury of giving. Taking care of himself didn’t seem to help at all. 

“There’s a really easy way to work this out, Claude,” Sylvain continued. “Believe it or not, I know some people. Maybe I can send some your way. You’ll just need to be very firm about how much you give them. These girls will try to take as much of you as they can get, if you catch my meaning.” 

Claude snorted. “I’d imagine so. Unfortunately, I have neither the time nor the luxury for… _company_ right now. And, honestly, I don’t think I want it.” 

“ _Or_ it could save your life to _make_ time and luxury right now. Besides, I don’t buy that. I’ve seen the look in your eyes in my own mirror too many times, Claude. It wouldn’t hurt.” 

“Maybe you’re right.” Claude sighed as they entered the meal hall. It was mostly empty at this point. “I’ll… think about it.” 

“Great. I just want to help. Let me know, yeah?” Sylvain clapped him on the shoulder, gave him a smile, and then left him alone. 

Claude stood in his spot for a moment and watched him go. _What a strange conversation. But he’s not wrong. Maybe when we get back, I’ll see how things go._

The bell ringing at the service counter drew him out of his thoughts. “Ten minutes! Last call!” boomed a voice throughout the hall. A few people left their seats to get in line for more food. He followed them, and once he had a full plate, looked around to see if he could spot any familiar faces.

He ended up taking a seat across the table from his mother. She had a letter in hand, and didn’t look up from it as she reached forward to grab her cup of tea. “It’s about time you came to get some food, boy. I was wondering how long it would take for you to show up.” 

“Who’s that from?” he asked her as he settled in, cutting off a bite of his meat and stuffing it in his mouth. He’d skipped lunch, and hadn’t realized how hungry he was. 

“ _Nardel_ ,” she answered him. “Things are going exactly as planned. We should have free access to the Bridge, but we - slow down, boy, you’re going to make yourself sick.” 

“F’rry. Fkipp’d mmnch.” He finished chewing and swallowed his food. “I’m starving.”

“That’s why you don’t skip lunch,” Judith chastised him. “Anyway, _Nardel_ sends his regards, and wishes us luck in taking the Bridge.” 

Claude nodded at her. “You know, _Judith_ , if you keep saying his name that way, people are going to start to wonder why.” 

Judith reached for her teacup again. “Good thing I’m only speaking to you, then, _boy_.” 

Silence fell between them as Claude continued to eat. Judith watched him for a few minutes before breaking it. 

“He says he’s proud of you.” 

“Hm?” Claude looked up at her, pausing mid-bite. 

She nodded at him. “I am, too. You’re really pulling this thing together.” 

Claude finished his bite. “Honestly… I don’t think I could have done it if we hadn’t got Byleth back.” 

“I think you’re right. Last time I saw you before this, you were just going through the motions. Now, you’ve got your spark back.” She leaned in, putting her elbows on the table. “You look like hell, boy. You okay? Don’t push yourself if you’re not feeling well.” 

“I just… I’m really stressed.” He leaned in, too, not particularly wanting to be overheard. “I’m trying to save the continent, here. It’s not exactly an easy task.” 

“I’m sure it’s not,” she answered him. “Though - and I hate to say this about _you_ of all people - I don’t think that look in your eyes is entirely stress.”

“What makes you say that?” 

“You have your father’s eyes,” she told him simply. “Trouble in paradise?” 

He could feel himself blushing at the implication. “Mo - Judith, please, can we _not_ have this discussion right now? Or possibly even _ever_?” 

She gave him a sly grin. “Hit the nail on the head, have I?” 

“I - I don’t have the time right now.” 

“You know, that Professor of yours is looking pretty rigid these days, too. You could always offer to help her work some of that tension off.” 

“ _Mother!”_ he hissed back at her, coughing, almost choking on his food. 

“Careful now, boy.” She leaned back finally. “Are we going to be ready to go by the end of the week?” 

Claude coughed a few seconds longer, nodding as he did. He wished he could scrub the memory of that part of the conversation from his mind like a stubborn stain. “We have one final war table conference the day after tomorrow to work out details. I’d appreciate it if you could bring any updates from Nardel.”

“Will do.” She stood up. “See you around, boy. You know where I am if you need me.”


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Suggestive themes

The sound of a bowl crashing to the ground caused Claude to sit straight up in bed. 

“Oh, shit. Sorry.” It was the knight he’d invited back to his room the night before. He’d decided to go out for a few drinks after finishing his dinner with his mother, and, well… “I was trying to slip out without waking you. Figured you’ve got enough on your plate as it is.” 

“Don’t worry about it.” 

He took a moment to stretch quickly. He was about to suggest she take a vial of his potion to go, but she pulled one out of the bag she’d been carrying. He recognized the distinctive purple colour, and watched as she pulled the cork with her teeth and downed it in one go. 

“What?” she asked him as she tossed the empty vial back into her bag. 

“Nothing. I’m just not used to seeing someone take one willingly after waking up next to me,” he admitted a little sheepishly. 

She shrugged and rolled her eyes. “The way I see it, having a little brat is a jail sentence. A little _noble_ brat? _No_ thank you. I like my life how it is now.”

He laughed. 

“Anyway, thanks for not being an asshole. You need any _help_ in the future, let me know. Might just cost you more than a couple of drinks next time.” 

He grinned at her as she slipped out the door, and then flopped back in bed. He knew he’d needed that stress relief like he needed air to breathe, but now he just felt… dirty. Truthfully, he wasn’t even sure he actually felt _better_ , aside from getting the closest to a proper night’s sleep he’d been in moons. 

Taking Sylvain’s suggestion to heart was probably not the _best_ idea. Maybe he had time to- 

A knock sounded on his door, loud and insistent, no more than ten seconds after the woman left. 

“Just a second!” he called. Had she forgotten something? 

He rolled out of bed, grabbing his pants from the night before off the floor and pulling them on. He grabbed a shirt next, and was in the process of getting it on properly when he answered the door. 

“Hey! What’s up? You’re here early.” 

Byleth was standing on the other side. Her face was red, and she wouldn’t meet his eye. She was silent for about five seconds, and then held out a sheaf of papers toward him. “You told me to bring you these intelligence reports as soon as I had them and was finished with them,” she told him. 

He took them from her. “You okay?” 

She still wouldn’t look at him. “I’m fine. I’ll - leave you to it.” 

Claude blinked in confusion as she left without even saying goodbye. 

_What’s up with her?_ The butterflies in his stomach exploded nervously, leaving him feeling almost guilty. 

He sat at his desk to go over the reports. He had to read a few of them multiple times in order to absorb the information. He took a break to go get breakfast, where he didn’t see Byleth. _I’ll catch up to her later,_ he thought to himself, and then returned to his room to finish his reports. 

He went to lunch early, and took his time eating. He didn’t see her there, either. 

He went for a flight in the afternoon, and then hit the bathhouse while it was mostly empty. Dinner came, and this time, he was determined to catch Byleth. 

He did catch her, but it was as she was leaving. She got up just as he was about to sit down, giving him a solemn nod and leaving without another word. 

He blinked a few times and took the space she’d been in, next to Sylvain and across from Hilda. He didn’t even have a chance to say hello before Hilda was on his case. “Wow, Claude. For all that intelligence you have, you are a stupid, _stupid_ man.” 

Sylvain snorted into his almost-finished food. 

“What did I do?” 

“Ugh. You don’t even _know?_ Goddess save you.” 

Sylvain was shaking his head and laughing next to him. “Oh, this is so much more fun to watch from the outside.” 

_“What did I do?”_ Claude asked again. 

“It’s none of my business, but maybe you should go check on the Professor later,” Sylvain suggested. “In a full suit of armour. Not that it’ll help you.” 

His gut twisted. _So, she_ is _mad at me. What could I have done?_ He picked at his food, nervous as to what would happen when he inevitably knocked on her door later. 

He didn’t hear Hilda leave. Sylvain smacked him on the shoulder and wished him good luck as he stood. He finished his dinner alone, and then, not wanting to let the anxiety overwhelm him, he headed over to Byleth’s room. 

His hand shook a little as he knocked on the door. He faintly heard her chair scraping against the floor, and a few seconds later, she opened the door. 

She was still in her fancy dress for the day, her cloak the only piece of her daily ensemble to have been removed. Colour began to rise to her face, but she met his eye for the first time that day. She looked slightly pained, but she opened the door wider and stepped aside, giving him space to come in. She left the door open a crack as she followed him. 

He waited for her to sit to take a seat himself. She only had one chair in her room, and she claimed it, turning it to face the bed before dropping into it. Claude sat on the edge of her bed. He recalled with a rather sudden clarity the first time he’d sat here. His palm began to itch. 

Byleth leaned forward in the chair, resting her elbows on her knees and folding her hands together. She stared at the floor. “I’m sorry I’ve been… off today.” 

“I’ve been worried about you,” he told her. “Forget formalities. Are _you_ okay?” 

She stared at her hands, and didn’t answer him for almost thirty seconds. Her voice sounded a little shaky when she spoke, and it was so quiet, he almost didn’t hear her. 

“That woman this morning… is she…” 

Hilda was right. He was a stupid, _stupid_ man. 

He sighed and rubbed at his beard as guilt threatened to overwhelm him. “No, that was nothing,” he told her. She looked up at him with pained eyes. “I promise. We’ve been under so much pressure lately, and Sylvain offered to help… I just needed to let off some steam. That’s all.” 

Speaking of letting off steam, she looked like she could use it, too. He hadn’t noticed how rigid her shoulders had seemed as of late, but looking at her now… she was at a breaking point. His mother had been right about that. 

Her gaze dropped to her hands again. “I still haven’t figured out all of this emotions business,” she admitted to him. “I have a lot of feelings and just… no words to describe them.” 

“I’m happy to listen if you want to try.” 

She sighed deeply. “Well, I guess - I lost so much time, I’m just … scrambling to catch up still. But I’ve also been feeling the same way. Under a lot of pressure. There’s so much that’s being expected of us, and we don’t have the luxury of failing. It’s been keeping me up at night. That, and…” 

She sighed again, aggressively this time. 

“And…?” he prompted. 

He could almost see her grinding her teeth. She looked up at him through her lashes, and his breath caught in his throat. 

“ _You,_ ” she finally growled at him. His heart was pounding furiously. Her head fell into her hands for what felt like an eternity, and then words were spilling out of her mouth almost more quickly than he could keep up. “I don’t know what this is, Claude, but it’s ruining me. I go to try to sleep, and it starts with the screaming and the blood and the death, but then it becomes a memory of you eviscerating an enemy that had just tried to target me. Becomes that night, up on Rhea’s balcony. Becomes the smell of you after a training session, the way you say my name when we’re alone, the way you wink at me across a room when the others can’t see you, and suddenly I feel like my skin is about to blister off and I can’t - can’t - I can’t _rest_ . And when I came this morning to bring you those reports, and I saw that woman leaving what was most _definitely_ your room, I came back here and I _cried_ , even though it’s none of my business and has nothing to do with me. I don’t _understand_.” 

Claude was silent. He watched as her breath came in short gasps. Her face was red with embarrassment. But her eyes, when they met his, were hungry in a way he recognized instantly. 

“Don’t look at me like that,” she mumbled at him, looking away again. 

The butterflies in Claude’s stomach were threatening to consume him. His blood roared in his ears. He himself was having a hard time breathing. He’d dreamed for _years_ of hearing something like that come from her and now, here he was. Living that moment. Alone with her. 

_This is not smart. If you do this, Claude, you are going to put this entire operation in an extreme amount of danger._

He stood and walked to the door, pushing it closed and locking it. The _click_ as the lock slid into place made her look up at him. 

He walked back toward her slowly. Every logical thought in him screamed that he needed to stop, but his heart was so very tired of listening to logic. “Byleth? Will you dance with me?” 

He held out a hand to her, and she took it after a moment of hesitation. He moved the chair well out of the way before guiding her into position. She still remembered her place, taking her hand back to put it on his shoulder, taking his now-empty right hand in her left. He placed his left hand lower than he did back then, closer to the swell of her hip than the dip of her waist. He watched her suck in a shaky breath at his touch, and then pulled her in a little closer.

“Ready?” he asked her. His voice was low. More colour raised to her face as she wet her bottom lip and nodded. 

The first few steps were rocky. They had no music to follow, after all, and she’d never been _properly_ trained. 

“Do you remember what you said to me at the ball?” he asked her as they found their footing. She blinked up at him. “You told me you enjoyed dancing because it made you feel soft. Like a desirable, delicate lady, if my memory serves me correctly.” 

Her voice was barely above a whisper when she answered him. “Only when I was with you.” 

He led her quietly, carefully, through a few more steps. Now that she’d met his eye, she couldn’t seem to look away. “There’s a name for what you’ve been feeling. The restlessness, the discomfort, the daydreaming and fantasizing,” he told her.

“What is it?”

He gave her a devilish smile, and propelled her outward. She spun, finally giving him a reluctant smile as she stopped, and then he pulled her back in, until she was trapped against his chest with nowhere to go. Just like that first time, when he’d been teaching her.

Her breath came in noisily through her nose in surprise. His nose was inches away from hers, so very close. 

“Desire,” Claude answered her finally. “Arousal. Lust. If we were less intelligent creatures, it would simply be an instinct to procreate. But for humans, it’s often something… more.” 

Her eyes were wide with embarrassment, her breaths coming in shorter gasps. 

“You have no idea how long desire has driven me to do this,” he told her, and then he threw caution to the wind, closed his eyes, leaned down, and kissed her. 

A little whimper sounded in her throat when he connected with her. His hand on her hip slid to the small of her back, pulling her in tight, and he let her other hand go so he could tangle his into her hair. She pushed up onto her toes in a desperate effort to get closer to him, her own hands sliding up his chest to his neck. 

He walked her backward until her calves hit the edge of her bed. She fell backward into a sitting position, gasping for air as they broke apart. Her chest was heaving as she looked at him standing over her. 

“Now, Byleth, we need to promise each other one thing before anything else.” 

“What?” 

Heat and tension were building very quickly below his belly button, and his own breath was coming in short. It was hard to think straight. “It’s best if we keep this between us. No matter what comes of it. It’s a bad idea for the two of us to be tied up like this at a time like this. Makes us easy targets. And if one of us goes, this whole thing falls apart.” 

She nodded at him. “No problem.” 

“Good. Now, tell me, Byleth. How are you feeling?” 

“Like I’m about to immolate if you don’t get in this bed with me right now.” 

He smiled dangerously at her again before ducking back down and losing himself in the moment. He was looking forward to the way she would sound when she was satisfied. 

_Maybe I’ll make her beg for it._

  
  
  


* * *

Claude felt her shift against his side, making his eyes flutter open. He hadn’t intended to fall asleep, but evidently he had. 

Byleth was still laying next to him. She really was beautiful. Her pale skin was criss-crossed with various scars, and even some fresh bruises. Her hair was fanned out across her pillow, letting him see her still-flushed face as she smiled at him. 

She reached over and pushed some hair out of his eyes for him as he took in the sight of her again. 

“Feel better?” he asked her. 

“ _Much_ ,” she replied. He could see it, too. He couldn’t remember the last time she’d seemed so relaxed. “It’s funny.” 

“What?” 

“Well, you mentioned this being an instinct to procreate,” she told him. She traced a scar of his with her fingertip, on his side, as she spoke. “I had never really felt it before, so I always just assumed that people did this for that sole purpose. Nobles need heirs, farmers need kids to help with the work. I never understood how people _enjoyed_ it. But I certainly do now.” 

Claude laughed and rolled over toward her so he could kiss her again before rolling away and sitting up on the edge of the bed. He scrubbed at his eyes with the heels of his palms and looked up at the window. “Is that sunrise or sunset?” 

“Sunset,” she answered him. 

He sighed in relief. “I would love nothing more than to stay, but it’ll have people talking,” he told her as he stood and began to gather his things. Once he was standing, she shuffled over to sit where he’d just been. 

She watched him get dressed in silence. Once he was mostly done, she stood up and retrieved a set of simple comfort clothes from her dresser, pulling them on quickly and effortlessly. 

He turned to face her, and found her watching him sheepishly. 

“I… I don’t know what to say.” She looked down at the floor. “That was… nice? Fun? More work than I was expecting?” 

He laughed at that and closed the distance between them again. “You don’t have to say anything,” he assured her, “but I hope you mean it when you say fun. It _should_ be.” 

He leaned over and kissed her once more, briefly, for good measure. 

“I’m going to head out,” he continued. “As hard as it may be, don’t forget that unless we’re behind a locked door in a safe place, we need to act like this never happened, okay? I would hate for someone to target you in an attempt to get to me.” 

“Let them try.” He gave her a pleading look, and she gave him a smile back, and a nod. “I promise.” 

“Thank you.” He headed for the door, unlocking it carefully and taking one last look at her over his shoulder before opening it. 

“Goodnight, Claude,” she told him from across the room. 

He smiled at her. “Goodnight, Byleth.” He took in a deep breath of the cool night air as he stepped outside, closing the door quietly behind himself. 

_Act natural,_ he told himself, but he couldn’t fight the almost goofy smile that she’d left on his face. 

  
  


* * *

He was almost done his breakfast the following morning when she arrived. 

Lysithea, Ashe, Ignatz, and Raphael were all nearby, finishing their own breakfasts. They all murmured greetings at Byleth as she took the seat across the table from him. 

“Hey,” he said to her, mid-bite. He finished chewing the food in his mouth and swallowed it before continuing. “You’re late. Everything okay?” 

She nodded, stuffing a piece of bread in her mouth. “Was up too late last night going over paperwork. But I managed to actually sleep, which was nice, so I slept in a bit.” 

He nodded at her. He hadn’t been able to get the image of her sprawled beneath him out of his head, and so hadn’t slept very well, himself. “Can’t say the same, unfortunately. Oh, before I forget, I need you to pop by today when you get a chance. The earlier, the better. I need to talk to you about that report we discussed last night.” 

“Hm?” She looked at him confused for a moment, and then clued in, giving him an _oh, yes, I remember_ nod. “I’ll come by once I’m done eating?” 

“Perfect.” He finished the last few bites of his food. “I’m going to get going. I’ll see you shortly. And you all, don’t forget we’ve got a meeting this afternoon in the old cardinal’s room. Very important,” he told the rest of the crew who were still at the table. They all nodded their understanding as he left. 

Claude went straight back to his room. Unable to sleep, he’d made a fresh batch of fennel root potion after getting in last night, and needed to talk to Byleth about it. _No tricks with her._ He opened his drawer and pulled the little vial out, placing it out of the way on the corner of his desk, and then went to work. 

It was about half an hour later that he heard a knock on the door. He set aside the report he’d just finished looking over to cross the room and answer it. 

Byleth was standing on the other side, with a tray for tea in hand. He could smell the hot pine needles instantly. 

“ _Mmmm…_ my favourite,” he commented with a smile. “Come on in.” 

She slipped past him effortlessly and then stood in the room, spinning slowly in place while she decided where to put her tea tray down. He closed the door behind her, making sure it was latched. 

“You can put it just there,” he told her, gesturing toward his bookshelf. She nodded, pushed a few stacked tomes aside, and set the tray down carefully before pouring out two little cups from the pot. 

She held one out for him, and he took it from her as he reached her. “Thanks.” 

“So, what’s this about a report we needed to discuss because I was too busy being a moody brat yesterday?” 

Claude had gone to take a sip of his tea, and nearly snorted it out of his nose. He finished the sip he’d taken, then placed his cup down, taking hers from her and putting it down next to his. 

“I _do_ have reports to discuss with you, but we can do that a little later.” He watched her carefully for any signs of discomfort or hesitation as he stepped in closer, a hand reaching out for her hip. “I have something of a more… _personal_ nature to discuss with you for now. Well - in a moment.” 

She looked up at him through her lashes with a coy smile, and then pushed up on her toes. He could feel her breath on his chin. 

He held her close as he captured her lips with his own once more. Despite all the time they’d spent like this the night before, it was an electrifying experience. He pulled her in closer, wrapping her up in his arms securely as her tongue pushed against his bottom lip. 

He could taste the tea on her tongue. He began to lose himself in the moment with her again, skin crackling and warmth gathering-

Until he heard another knock at the door. 

They both froze, Byleth going rigid in his grip. He broke from her as quietly as he could, taking a step back and letting her go. 

“Just a moment!” he called. 

“I haven’t got all day, boy.” 

_That is the_ last _person I want to see right now._ “Judith,” he murmured to Byleth. She nodded at him, taking back her tea cup and meandering over to the desk. 

He closed his eyes and prayed that his mother wouldn’t notice the way Byleth’s lips were swollen and red. Or his own. He knew better than to think that she wouldn’t. 

Claude took a deep breath and strode confidently to the door, pulling it open just as Byleth plunked down into his desk chair, a stack of reports in one hand, her tea in the other, and began to read. 

“Hey, Judith.” 

Judith looked at Claude, behind him at Byleth, and then back at Claude. If she weren’t his mother, he wouldn’t have caught the amused undertone in her voice. “Sorry to interrupt. I’ve got some more information for you, thought you’d want to see it right away so you can have it for the conference this afternoon.” 

“Right, thank you.” He held out a hand to her, and she put the document pouch in it. “Any more news from Nardel on how our plan is coming along?” 

“No setbacks. Everything is going according to plan.” Judith looked past him toward Byleth again. “Excuse me for saying so, Professor, but you look like you might be coming down with something. Make sure you take some time to head to the infirmary if you start feeling unwell.” 

Byleth looked up from her papers. “Hm? Oh, I’m fine. Probably just the steam from the tea,” she lied easily, raising her cup before taking another sip and going back to her papers. 

Judith’s eyes twinkled mysteriously. “Alright, then, kids. Don’t let me keep you. I’ve got work to do. I’ll see you later.” She didn’t wait for any response, turning on her heel and making her way back down the hall. 

Claude stuck his head out after her, making sure there was no one else in the hallway, before closing his door again and leaning against it. 

Byleth heaved a noisy, relieved sigh. “So _that’s_ what it feels like to almost get caught by your mother.” 

Claude’s heart continued to beat noisily, though for a different reason this time. “What’s that?” 

She put the papers down and regarded him curiously. “I may not be as intelligent as you, Claude, but I’m much more perceptive than many people give me credit for.” 

He sighed, too, crossing the room and sinking down onto the edge of the bed. “Well, then, you should know: that wasn’t _almost_ getting caught by my mother, it _was_ getting caught by my mother. I gained _all_ of my people skills from her. She _definitely_ saw right through us.” Today was _not_ his day for secret-keeping, it seemed. 

Byleth took another sip of her tea. “What did you need to talk about?” 

“Oh, uh… right. That.” He scrubbed at his face with the heels of his palms. He imagined this conversation being easier to have with her, but somehow, it was harder. “Look, By, we, um… can’t afford to take any risks right now. I need you to do me a favour, and - there’s a little vial of purple potion on the corner of the desk, there.” 

“What is it?” 

“It’s a… preventative,” he settled on. She studied it for a moment before pulling the stopper and tipping it back. She drank it quickly, then dropped the almost-empty vial into her teacup and swirled it before fishing the vial back out. All traces of the potion within were gone.

“What, not ready for little Claudes to be running around underfoot?” she teased. 

He laughed, relieved, the tension from the moment gone. “Not yet, that’s for sure. We have a world to fix before I consider that as a possibility.” 

Byleth nodded absently. She tipped her tea cup back, draining the last of it. She crossed the room to refill it in silence, then went back to the chair at the desk, grabbing the report she’d been reading while Judith spoke to him. 

“This name - it sounds so familiar.” 

“Who’s that?” 

“Lord… Acheron?” her brow furrowed for a moment, and then her eyes went wide. “Oh, wait - he’s in Gloucester territory. Wasn’t he that one that was tied up in the supply line sabotage between Gloucester territory and yours that Ignatz and Raph asked us to help with?” 

“Good memory,” he commended her with a nod. “That report isn’t promising. There’s a good chance he’s going to get involved, just you wait. Maybe it’s not too late to send word…”

“Send word?” 

“My retainer, Nardel. Acheron is a genuine Empire sympathizer. He’s the kind of man who leeches off of other people’s power, and is always looking for the most powerful host that will tolerate him. He’s turned on the Alliance, so I can finally do something about it.” Claude scratched absently at the corner of his jaw. “His land is right on the Bridge. If he notices a fight, there’s a good chance he’ll come out himself to help the Empire, to gain recognition. Hm… I think that could work. Shouldn’t be too hard for him to pull off…”

Byleth didn’t say anything, simply smiling at him from behind her tea cup and going back to her reading. 

He watched her as she did. Her jade green eyes jumped across the page, back and forth, with incredible speed. A little furrow started to develop between her eyebrows. He’d always seen that as anger or frustration before, but now - well, it was _still_ frustration, if he were being honest. Just a different sort. 

“Who’s staring now?” 

“Hm?” He could feel heat rising to his face as she laughed at him with those very same eyes. 

“Is there something on my face?” 

He shook his head. “It’s… nothing. We should get to work.”

“If you insist,” she teased him. She smiled at him, though. It was warm. 

He smiled back. 

_This… this miracle is everything I could have hoped for._


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Suggestive themes

Claude sucked in a few steadying breaths as he directed Sothe higher. Ladislava had fallen, but he needed to be sure… 

He smiled once they were high enough to see, leaning forward to stroke Sothe’s neck. “How about a victory cry for us, girl?”

Sothe snorted, then lifted her head and let out a bellowing roar. As she quieted, he could hear the distant sound of their army shouting in response below. 

Claude directed Sothe back to the Alliance side of the Bridge. He could see the army watching his trajectory, then start moving toward him. 

Many of the rear guard were there already when they landed, looking tired but otherwise mostly unscathed. Some were laughing with their friends, while others were already working to clear out and separate the bodies. 

Claude undid his leg buckles and slid out of Sothe’s saddle with practiced ease, giving her a look-over as he waited for the others to catch up. 

“You okay, boy?”

Claude looked over his shoulder to see Judith standing nearby. He nodded. “We’re good. How about you?”

“Lost some good men today,” she told him with a sigh. “But that’s the reality of war, isn’t it?” 

He simply nodded again. 

Within a few minutes, everyone had gathered again. Conversations naturally began to fall silent as they waited for Claude to speak. 

His friends looked tired, with some a little worse for wear. He could see Heals and Physics flashing all through the crowd. As he took it all in, his gaze settled on Byleth, only a few feet away, directly in front of him. She was covered in blood, still wearing her war face. 

_ We did it. _

He took in a deep breath and began to speak. “Well done, everyone. The Great Bridge of Myrddin is ours!” 

The army roared again in response, weapons shaking and clashing together. In the celebration, he motioned for his friends to move a little closer. 

“I was prepared for bloodshed, but that was more than expected,” Leonie mused as she stepped in a puddle of blood, shaking her boot. “I guess I’m still not used to this.” 

Ignatz nodded slowly. “Even our enemies were fighting for their own cause. They held out without fleeing until the bitter end.” 

“You don’t have to get used to it,” Byleth answered them simply. 

Murmurs of assent and a few relieved sighs rippled through the group. “That is true. I wouldn’t want to become the type of person who feels nothing when someone dies,” Leonie continued. 

Claude waited for them to finish. “Now it’s on me to return to Alliance territory and convince those lords to join us,” he told them. “Lorenz, would you return home for the time being and lay the groundwork with your father?” 

“Fine.” Lorenz lacked his usual bite; he looked exhausted. “After all, this is for the Alliance. Or rather, for all of Fódlan.”

Claude nodded his thanks. “For those of you who live in Alliance territories, I ask that you return to your houses, and spread the word about the current situation. Until we finish our preparations, Judith and the knights will do everything in their power to defend the Great Bridge.”

Judith laughed. “That’s a casual way to dole out such a deadly mission, boy.” 

He looked at her, surprised. “Do you object?” 

“Just who do you think I am?” Her tone turned from joking to serious quickly. “I won’t let the Empire pass this way, even if it costs me my life.” 

Claude’s chest constricted uncomfortably, making his breath come in short for a moment. “Too bad you’re not allowed to die,” he reminded her. “Fight like your life depends on it, but  _ flee _ if you’re ever truly in danger.”

“A tall order, as always.” She shook her head in disbelief, but smiled kindly at him. “I’ll use my best discretion, Claude.” 

He nodded back, taking in a deep breath as the terror of losing his mother lost its grip on him, before turning toward Seteth. 

“We have no objections, either,” Seteth stated, before Claude could say anything else. “Go forth and secure us a sufficiently powerful army.” 

“I’ll stay here, too. The only ones I’d be going home to are my little sis and my grandpa,” Raphael added. 

Claude frowned. “Are you sure you don’t want to see your sister? It may be a while before you can return home again.”

“But if I see her, I may not want to come back,” Raphael admitted. “So I’ll wait til I’m done here.” 

“What about me?” 

Everyone’s attention turned to Byleth as she spoke, then quickly turned back to Claude. 

“Actually, I’d like for you to come with me, Teach. To help negotiate with the lords. They’re followers of the Church of Seiros, after all. It’ll make things easier if we have someone there to speak on Rhea’s behalf.” She nodded at him. He looked over their group one last time. “Alright, everyone. Let’s meet back at the monastery in… four weeks time?” 

Everyone nodded at him. 

“Great. Good luck out there. Stay safe,” he told them. “If you need me for anything, I’ll be in Derdriu.”

He stood and watched as they all began saying their farewells. Ignatz and Leonie moved to talk with Raphael, grabbing Sylvain and pulling him along, too. Ashe and Petra moved past him to catch Seteth before he left. 

Judith put her hand on his shoulder. “I’ll let Nardel know you’re headed back, but I’m not sure who will make it there first.” 

“Byleth and I can afford to take an extra day or two. Sothe won’t be able to fly as long carrying both of us, anyway.” 

“You did really good with this one, boy.” 

He smiled at her. “Thanks.” 

“I’ll see you soon.” She took her hand off his shoulder and began to make her way toward the group of students who would be staying with her. 

“You’d better!” he called after her, and then turned his attention to Byleth. 

She was standing a comfortable distance away, looking up at him with a tired smile. “Good work out there.” 

“You, too.” Looking closer, he could see how haunted she appeared. She’d had to cut Ferdinand down herself. He pitied her for it. “The sooner we get to Derdriu, the more I can show you, and the better prepared we can be for the round table I’ll need to call. You okay with flying with me?” 

“I’ve never been for more than a few minutes at a time, but I hope so.” 

Claude blinked a few times. How had he never taken her flying before? 

“Oh, also, I wasn’t exactly expecting this,” she continued. “Is there any chance we have time to stop at the monastery? I just want to grab some clothes for travelling, I’m sure I can buy more once we get to Derdriu.” 

“Sure,” he agreed, “but we  _ do _ need to travel as light as possible. Sothe can only carry so much.” 

“Of course.” 

Claude waved her over, then helped her up into the saddle. “Do you want leg buckles?”

She pondered it for a moment then shook her head. “It shouldn’t be too long to get back to the monastery, right?” Claude shook his head in response. “Then I’ll be fine for now.” 

Claude carefully climbed up in front of her. The saddle was truly only made for one person; this had the potential to be an uncomfortable trip. He could probably have a double-seat made once they were in Derdriu, though, so they’d be more comfortable on the way back. 

“You okay?” he asked her over his shoulder. 

“I’m fine. Bit tight, but I’ll survive. You going to be okay? You’re the one that matters.” 

Claude shuffled a little in his seat. The saddlehorn was almost dangerously close to him. “I’ll be fine for now, but if we’re stopping at the monastery, I think I’m going to go pilfer a slightly deeper saddle from the aviary. I was starting to think she’d outgrown this one, anyway.” 

“I can move back a bit,” Blyeth answered him. He could feel her shuffling, the insides of her thighs warm against his hips, making his heart race. Once she settled, he grabbed the saddlehorn and pushed back. It was only a couple of inches, but it made all the difference. 

“Much better. Alright, ready?” 

“Read - wait, where do I hold on?”

“Oh - uh, for takeoff you should probably hug me, but once we’re airborne and steady, you can treat it like a horse.” 

“Okay…” Byleth sounded hesitant, but her arms snaked around his waist. She turned her hands so that she could grab her own wrists to keep her grip locked. “That okay?” 

“Perfect. You ready, girl? It’s going to be heavier than you’re used to.” 

Sothe snorted, shuffling her weight from foot to foot. She stretched her wings and flapped a few times.

“Alright, then.  _ Yip yip! _ ” 

Sothe cooed at him and with only a single extra flap of her wings, they were airborne. 

Byleth gasped behind him, her grip tightening as she pressed herself against his back. He slid another inch or so back as they climbed. It only took a couple of minutes for Sothe to gain the altitude she wanted, and then she steadied out, coasting along. She crooned happily and snapped at a bird as they flew past. 

“The view from up here is incredible,” Byleth commented. She was still hugging him tightly, pressed against his back. Her warmth was comforting. He almost seemed to hear her through himself, as if her voice was carrying through his bones. “No wonder you want to do this all the time.” 

He smiled to himself. “You can relax, now.” 

“I am relaxed.” But her grip loosened just a little. 

One at a time, he pulled her hands apart, placing them on Sothe’s reins, and then encouraged her to relax her arms. Her wrists came to rest on his thighs, her grip on the reins loose. He took the reins a little above where her hands were so he could keep control and let himself relax, as well, comfortable with the warmth and weight of her against him. He could get used to this.

“You know, maybe we don’t need a bigger saddle.” 

“Oh no, we’re getting one,” Byleth countered with a laugh. “I can’t fly all the way to Derdriu on this thing.” 

“If you insist,” he answered her with a chuckle. He smiled wider as he felt her face come to rest on the back of his shoulder. 

_ Yeah… I  _ could _ get used to this.  _

  
  


* * *

The sun had long since set. Claude and Byleth made camp for the night near the edge of a forest canopy. They’d carefully dug out a dirt pit for a fire, making sure no roots were exposed before Byleth sparked their kindling. Sothe caught a rather large deer, letting them take a cutting for some steaks before tearing into the rest of the carcass herself. 

They were on their third night of camping, and only about halfway to Derdriu. It was nice, with just the two of them. They didn’t have a tent, only meager bedrolls and a small waterproof leather tarp for shelter. Still, for this time of year in Alliance territory, it was sufficient. They hadn’t been rained on yet, at least. 

Claude poked at the dying coals in the fire pit. They could easily relight it at any time, thanks to Byleth, so he wasn’t too worried about it. Besides, he didn’t much like the idea of leaving a fire roaring if he wasn’t going to be sitting in front of it. 

Byleth was about fifteen feet away, out from under the trees. He was pretty sure she was laying on her back to look up at the stars, but it was hard to tell from where he was. 

He was really enjoying travelling with her. As they flew, he’d share a story or two from his childhood, or point out landmarks and share interesting facts about various lords as they flew over territories. She had some interesting memories of working in the Alliance with her father, more than a few of which made him laugh so hard he cried. Once they landed, though, she was mostly her usual comfortably quiet self. 

Confident that the fire wasn’t about to rage out of control, he stood and walked over to where Byleth was laying. She watched him as he laid down next to her, putting his hands behind his head. 

“It’s a beautiful night.” 

“Mhmm.” 

They watched the sky together in silence for a time. Claude tried not to think about what would be waiting for them once they arrived in Derdriu. The two of them had been given this moment to relax, and he had every intention of making the most of it. 

He heard Byleth moving next to him, and turned to find her propped up on an elbow. 

“What’s up?” 

“Do you… think it’s okay to talk out here? Is it safe?” 

“I’d say so,” he answered her, a little apprehensive. 

Byleth took in a deep breath and then flopped back down flat in the grass next to him. “I’m just thinking, Claude, but… what is…” She gave up on words, instead gesturing vaguely between them with a hand. 

He caught her meaning. What  _ were _ they? There hadn’t been anything more between them since. He’d started to wonder if she was distancing, but her behaviour when they were flying had him convinced otherwise. More realistically, she was playing their game  _ very _ safe. 

But… why was she asking? Was she afraid? It was unlikely that she would have had any sort of relationships of this nature before now. Maybe she was just overwhelmed. 

“We’re a team,” he settled on. He didn’t want to frighten her away. “A damn good one. And that can mean whatever we want it to.” 

She didn’t say anything else. 

“Honestly, By, we can be whatever you want,” he continued after a minute or so. “I’m not asking for discretion out of shame - I just want us to have smaller targets on our backs. But I don’t want you to feel pressured or trapped or anything like that.” 

“I don’t,” she murmured next to him. 

“I’m glad. If what happened between us was a one-time thing, I’m okay with that. If you want it to continue, I’m  _ more _ than okay with that, too. But we have bigger things to worry about right now than putting a name to it, I think - unless it’s that important to you.” 

She sighed. He was fairly confident it was relieved. “I don’t want to hold you back, either.” 

He laughed at that. “No offence, but you’ve been holding me back for  _ years _ . I was accused of being a statue, once, while you were taking your five-year nap, because I refused an advance at my coming-of-age party - never mind the dozens leading up to that one. Truth is, I just… I wasn’t ready to give up on you yet. It wasn’t healthy, in hindsight, but I was right, so I suppose it doesn’t matter.” 

He looked over at her. It was hard to tell, but he thought she was smiling. “You’re hopeless,” she teased him, and they laughed together for a moment. Silence fell between them for a few seconds, and then Byleth spoke again. “I’m going to miss this once we get back to it.” 

“The sooner we win the war, the sooner we can do this consistently,” he promised her. 

She sat back up again, but this time she rolled over towards him. She closed the distance and threw a leg across him, straddling his hips and sitting up tall. 

Claude stayed still, taking his time to permanently etch the memory of the sight of her into his mind. The soft light of the moon and stars gave her an ethereal glow, reminding him keenly that she was almost more-than-human. 

“Having said all that, By, I don’t think now is a great time,” he told her as her hands began to wander to the bottom hem of his shirt. “I didn’t bring any of my potion with me, and it’ll be too late by the time we get to Derdriu.” 

She sighed again, her shoulders slumping a little in defeat, but she looked down on him with a smile. “Fair enough.” 

She sat there for another ten seconds or so. He waited patiently until he felt her weight begin to shift, and then sprung into action. He sat up abruptly, grabbing her by the waist and twisting, flipping her on her back so that he was above her, her thighs still wide on either side of his hips. 

She gasped in shock and then laughed, but he cut her off with a deep kiss. He broke away from her after only a few seconds, though, leaning back to put his weight on his knees. 

“Just because I don’t have any of my potion with me, doesn’t mean we can’t have a little fun,” he told her. He could see the excited rise and fall of her chest as she tried to catch her breath. 

“How do you mean?” 

Claude reached for his water skin on his hip, quickly twisting the top off and pouring a little water into his hand. He put the top between his teeth for a moment as he scrubbed the water into his hands, and then dried them on the fronts of his pants before closing his water skin again. “Do you trust me?” 

“Of course I do.” 

“Good. Then lay back and relax.” 

Tonight, he’d be gentle. Tender. Really take his time, find out what made her tick. 

She deserved it. 

  
  


* * *

  
  
  


They arrived in Derdriu in the mid-afternoon of their fifth day of travel. A strong tailwind helped to speed them along, and just as well; Byleth had started to mention being saddle sore, and even he was beginning to feel it. 

They landed in his private aviary. He expected them to be alone, but three stablehands immediately rushed to their aid. 

Claude tried to wave them away. “I appreciate the help, but we’ve had a long flight. I’d rather tend to her myself,” he called out once they were in ear shot. 

Two of the stablehands retreated, but one continued to approach. Claude took in the sight of him quickly, trying to gauge what the man was doing. 

“I come with a message for you, my lord,” the man said as he came closer. His hands swung easily at his sides, and he knelt down, head bowed, about ten feet away from Sothe. 

Claude didn’t look away from him as Byleth undid the last of their leg buckles. He slid off Sothe’s back first, as always, and held out his hands to help her down. As soon as her feet were on the ground, she stretched her hand. He saw no flame, but he could see her fingertips sparking. 

He spoke to the man as he collected Failnaught from its holder on the saddle. His sword would be a better option here if this was an assassin, he knew, but having his bow in hand made it easier to respond quickly without appearing hostile. “You may rise, and speak.” 

“Nardel asked me to pass along his - I’m sorry, my lord, I believe it was his relief? - at your safe arrival. He can be found in his study whenever you are able, and looks forward to speaking with you.” 

“When did he arrive?” 

“Not two sun’s marks ago,” the stablehand replied. 

“He made good time. Thank you, you can go - that’s not necessary, thank you,” he tacked on as the man tried to kneel in front of him again. The stablehand bowed low instead before retreating. 

“Wow,” Byleth murmured after a few seconds. “Haven’t seen  _ that _ kind of response in a  _ long _ time.” 

“Welcome to Derdriu, acting Archbishop,” he teased as he shouldered Failnaught. Without thought, his hands moved to the buckles holding Sothe’s saddle on. “They’ll probably treat you the same.” 

Byleth helped him with removing the saddle in silence. She gave a low whistle as they removed it. 

“Poor girl, you must be sore,” she murmured to Sothe. Sothe cooed at her. 

Claude frowned at the angry-looking red chafing that stood out brightly against Sothe’s white scaly hide. “Her scale wax should be right at the top of my bag.” 

Byleth, who was closer to the saddle and therefore the packs, instantly started rummaging. Claude put a gentle hand on one of the red spots, and Sothe whipped her head around to look at him with a hiss. 

“We’re going to take the sting away, you’ll feel better soon,” he promised as he reached out to run his hand along the top of her snout. She closed her eyes and cooed again. “And I’m going to buy you a new saddle before we go, one that’s made just for you, that can sit two people a little more comfortably. Okay?” 

Sothe cooed again and then sighed, twisting away from him to look around at her other side. She lifted her wing slowly to an awkward angle. 

“How thick should I be putting this on?” Byleth asked. 

Claude ducked under Sothe’s chest to help her. It took them about another half an hour to make sure Sothe was waxed and healthy (Byleth even tried a Heal, but it wasn’t all too effective), and then they shouldered their small bags and headed for the palace proper. 

The Riegan estate was modest compared to the Faerghus and Adrestian royal estates, but it was by no means  _ actually _ modest; the property was similar in size to Garreg Mach. 

The aviary had been added after he was born, at his mother’s request. It was near the rear of the estate, surrounded by sprawling green lawns and carefully trimmed hedges. A large stone fountain marked the boundary between the lawns and the private garden, which would then lead them to the ‘private’ back entrance of the estate. 

Claude led the way, though he was careful to keep Byleth at a politically optimal distance, not getting ahead of her but clearly directing them. He took her on a short tour of the gardens, showing her both the local variants on plants she’d be familiar with from the monastery greenhouse, as well as some local varieties he knew were missing there, taking careful mental note of which ones made her eyes flutter closed as she leaned in to sniff them. 

From there, he led her inside. The Riegan estate was rather sensibly laid out, truth be told. The private entrance from the back gardens brought them into a central hall. It was about twenty feet wide, fifteen feet tall, and eighty to one hundred feet long, ending at a massive set of wooden double doors, the Riegan crest laid into the wood in gold. The floor and walls were polished stone, but pathways were starting to wear into the floors, now, betrayed by the lights from the lanterns that dotted the walls in equal increments and the shadows they cast across them. 

Halfway down the hall, facing each other, were two entryways to narrower, crossing hallways, ten feet wide at the most. The left one would lead to his own private chambers, with an adjoining hallway for the higher-ranking house staff and a private dining room. The right hallway led to the master guest room, with an adjoining hall to other, smaller guest rooms and a private chapel. Beyond the doors at the other end of the hall was the round table conference room. 

The sounds of shuffling feet sounded to either side of them. Claude quickly looked left and right, taking in the sights of guards as they came to attention and saluted. 

“Welcome home, Your H- um, Duke Riegan, Lady Byleth,” one said, stumbling over his words as he remembered where he was. 

Claude nodded. These were his father’s men, not his. Now that he took another look down the hall, he could see that the guards at the other end were Almyran, as well. A woman emerged from the left hallway, just then, pushing a serving cart. The wheels clattered a little across the slightly uneven floor. She looked up and froze for a few seconds.  _ She _ was Alliance, a leftover from the reign of his grandfather. 

“Duke Riegan! Welcome home!” 

“Thank you, Margaret,” Claude answered with a smile. “Nardel is still in his study?”

“As you say, my lord. Just finished taking him some tea.” 

“Can I take another moment of your time, Margaret?” Claude asked. Margaret relaxed a little, and Claude nodded to the guards, then beckoned Byleth to follow him. Margaret bowed deeply as they approached. He chose not to comment; there was no stopping this here. “Margaret, I’d like to introduce you to Lady Byleth Eisner, here representing the Church of Seiros. She’ll be our guest for a while, and she’ll need some dedicated staff. She’ll be taking the master guest room. Can we have that prepared?” 

“Lady Eisner, it’s a distinct pleasure,” Margaret answered with a smile, and she bowed deeply again. “I’ve got some wonderful young women who will be all yours during your stay. Anything we can get you right away?” 

“A bath would be great,” she answered immediately. 

“We’ll see to it immediately,” Margaret promised before looking back to Claude. 

“Thank you.” 

She bowed low again and continued on her way. 

“So, if we follow her we’ll reach the room you’ll be staying in,” Claude said to Byleth, before nodding back over his shoulder. “That way takes us to my private rooms and my personal staff. I’ll show you to yours first, you can drop your bag off and take a look, but I’d like for you to meet Nardel before you get too comfortable.” 

“After you,” was all she said, so he started down the hallway after Margaret. 

They walked in silence, uninterrupted as they approached the door to Byleth’s room. He waved for her to open the door. 

She did, a smile stretching across her face as she stepped inside. The room itself was the same size as the classroom, if not larger. Heavy black curtains, trimmed in gold, covered the entire right wall and the large windows laid into it. A massive four-post bed protruded from the wall directly across from them, the soft yellow canopy tied to the posts with black ribbons, framing the black and gold-trimmed bedding. A large writing desk was pushed against the wall to its right, with a small door on the wall to its left. A huge white rug covered most of the dark stone floor. On the left wall hung a few generic tapestries, framing another small door. 

“You get an incredible view of the sunset from in here,” he told her, leaving the door open as he crossed the room and pulled the curtains open a few inches. The windows overlooked a pond, surrounded by more flowers and small shrubs. He turned around and gestured toward the door on the opposite wall, then to the one just left of the bed. “Private bathroom and a closet.” 

Byleth walked over to the closet first, dropping her bag on the floor before opening the door and taking a quick peek inside. There was little to see. She nodded, and then turned to the door to the bathroom, pulling it open and gawking. 

The walls were lined with white stone, as was the floor. The room was dominated by a massive sunken bathtub in the floor, it’s edges gilded to mark the boundary between the white stone of the walls and floor, and the black onyx tiles of the tub. It was about four feet deep, with a ledge inside that wrapped around the entire tub, to be used as both a step and a seat. On the back wall was a simple hearth. 

“If you cast a fire there, it’ll heat the tub,” Claude explained to her. “Don’t ask me how it works, but it does. And you can put some water in it to turn it into a sauna, too.” 

“I suddenly find myself not much looking forward to going back to the monastery.” 

Claude laughed at that. “Come on, you can’t use it until the house staff fill it anyway.” He watched her take in a deep breath and hold it for a few seconds before she nodded, gesturing for him to lead the way. 

Claude led them back into the hall, waiting for her to close the door behind them before sweeping off in the direction of his room. They walked in silence, uninterrupted. 

“Here,” he said, stopping abruptly before a door. He pulled a small ring of keys from his belt, rifling through them until he found the right one. He slotted it into the door and turned, opening the door and motioning her in. 

“Your study?” 

“Mhmm. Still working on filling in some gaps in the shelves, but I’ll get there eventually.” 

His study had three defining features: the right wall, which was entirely taken up by bookshelves; the back wall, which was entirely glass and looked out onto his private, walled-in garden; and the massive desk in the middle of the room, designed for him at his grandfather’s request before his death. It was a tactician’s dream desk, ringed by tubes made for storing maps, with a frame to keep the edges of whatever map was being looked at from curling up on the top. Drawers housed all manner of map markers, carefully sorted. 

“Now I know why you wanted my father’s office,” Byleth commented. 

“I didn’t even realize the resemblance until now,” Claude admitted. 

Byleth began to scan the shelves, reading what spines she could. Claude followed her along until she reached one particular shelf. He turned his back to the open door. “By?” He waited for her to look at him, and then he tapped the spine of a book called  _ Children’s Tales Across the World. _ He gave her a pointed look. “Secret tunnel to the master bedroom,” he whispered. “In case you ever need it.” 

She nodded, the movement tight and quick, and then she continued to scan the rest of the shelves. When she was done, she stood at the back wall to look out over his garden for only a minute before indicating that she was ready to move on. 

He locked the door behind them, then motioned her down the hall again. “My room,” he indicated as they passed the door, but didn’t unlock to let her in. Under different circumstances… 

He shook his head, then pointed further down the hallway. “Down that way is the private dining hall. We’ll be eating there while we’re here mostly. We’re going this way, to the personal staff quarters.” 

She nodded again, and he led them down another adjoining hall. The first door on the left was nicer than the others in the hall. “Nardel is my… he’s like my Dedue, or Hubert, I guess,” Claude settled on. “You’ll like him.” 

He knocked on the door. 

“Come in!” The voice was muffled through the door. Claude turned the handle, swinging it wide. 

It was good to see his father again. Not that it had been very long since he had seen him last, but it would give him a good chance to take a look at how the old man was doing. 

“Is that you, kiddo?” 

Claude instantly frowned in warning before stepping aside to let Byleth in. “I have returned, Nardel.” He put the smallest emphasis on the name, despite knowing in his heart that Byleth would see right through the charade. 

“Ah, Master Claude!” His father bowed quickly. “It’s you. I mistook you for one of the children. My apologies. My eyes aren’t what they used to be.” 

Claude nodded. “It seems you have adjusted to your work here. Our recent strategy was a success, thanks to you.”

“I was a bit concerned when House Goneril’s army intervened from the east,” his father admitted. 

“Count Gloucester must have requested reinforcements from them.”

“Yes, and they have that young general who won some acclaim from his battles in Almyra…Regardless, they showed no signs of seriously wishing to attack us, and merely fulfilled their obligations to House Gloucester."

_ Huh. Must be that Hilda managed to let Holst in on the plan.  _

"In the end, we were fine," his father continued. "Now then… who is this lovely lady?” 

Claude gave his father another sharp look. 

“This is my professor, who I asked to join me at the round table conference as a representative of the Church of Seiros.” He turned to Byleth. “Teach, this is Nardel, my retainer that Judith was talking about.” 

She faltered for a second or two. When was the last time he'd called her that? “Nice to meet you,” Byleth answered finally with a smile before offering a friendly bow of her own. “As the Duke has failed to mention it, my name is Byleth.” 

Claude could feel heat creeping up his face. He never expected her to actually call him that.  _ Best get used to it, at least for the next couple of weeks. _

“How polite,” he heard his father murmur, before clearing his throat and continuing at a more reasonable volume. “I’ve heard good things about you from Master Claude.” 

Claude watched as Byleth looked at him, a little more closely than he’d like in that moment. “As you can see, he wasn’t born here in Fódlan. Still, trust me when I say he is highly capable.”

“True. In fact, my capability is my only redeeming quality.” 

Byleth laughed politely, then turned her critical stare toward Nardel. 

He continued without missing a beat, bowing respectfully once more toward her. “I hope you’ll continue to look after Master Claude, Lady Byleth.” 

“It’s in my best interests for him to live. He  _ is _ essential to our success, after all.” 

Claude’s father laughed, and then turned to him. “Master Claude, there is one other matter. A package was here waiting for you when I returned. I opened it to ensure the contents were safe. I think you’ll be interested to see what’s there, but perhaps it would be best if we look at it privately.” 

“Sure,” Claude agreed, wondering what it could possibly be. “Sorry, Byleth.” 

Byleth shrugged. “Just means I get to my bath sooner.” 

“Oh, hold on, before you go - Nardel, you still have the spare keys here?” 

“Of course. Which ones do you need?” 

“The master guest room and my private study.” 

His father, to his credit, didn’t give him any funny looks as he crossed the room, unlocked a small chest, and brought out a ring of keys. He selected two, carefully drawing them off, and putting them on a separate, smaller ring. “For the lady?” 

“Yes. Thank you.” 

Nardel replaced the large ring, relocking the chest before he returned to hand the small ring to Byleth. 

“You remember where you’re going?” Claude asked. 

Byleth nodded. “I’ll be fine.” 

“I’ll send someone to fetch you for dinner. Shouldn't be for another couple of hours, so you’ll have time to settle in. If you need anything, let Margaret know. We can head into town for the markets tomorrow for anything that’s not urgent.” 

“Sounds good. I’ll see you in a bit, then. Nardel, thank you.” Byleth gave him one more quick bow before excusing herself. 

Claude waited until she was out of sight to go close the door, locking it. When he turned around, his father had visibly relaxed. 

“Sorry about that, kiddo. Didn’t see her behind you when you came in.” 

“It’s fine,” Claude sighed. “Good chance she would have seen through us anyway. She figured Mother out, and no offence, but she’s  _ way _ better at acting the part than you are.” 

His father barked out a laugh. “Ain’t that the truth.” Silence fell between them for a few seconds, and then he threw his arms out to his sides. “What, your old man can’t even get a hug from his son anymore? I haven’t seen you in moons!” 

“Fair warning, I probably smell disgusting,” Claude told him, but he stepped into his father's embrace, holding tight and pounding a fist on his back before stepping away. 

“Ah, you’re not that bad, but I think your lady has the right idea.” 

He ignored the way his father said  _ your lady _ . “So what’s this package?” 

His father didn’t say anything, just smiled and turned away for a moment, heading for his closet. He returned with an expertly wrapped bundle - larger than Claude had expected - and placed it on the bed. 

“I thought you said you’d opened it?” 

“Yeah, I lied. I know what it is, didn’t need to.” 

Nervous butterflies exploded in Claude’s stomach.  _ Is this what I think this is, then? _

He blinked rapidly in disbelief as he opened it. 

“Father? Are you-”

“Absolutely positive. I’m getting tired of this shit, Khalid.” Silence hung in the air for about thirty seconds as Claude took each individual piece of the Almyran King’s regalia from the package. He was unprepared for this now. “I know you probably thought this would be coming after the war - officially, it will. We’ll do a proper coronation. But it’ll make more of an impact than what you’ve got now when you’re out there fighting, and it’ll be a good look for your conference, too.” 

“I… don’t know what to say.” 

His father laughed. “You, speechless? I guess there’s a first for everything.” His hand came down on Claude’s shoulder. “Let’s get you up. This is harder to put together than it looks, I’ll show you how it all works.” 

Claude stood and, surprising even himself, hugged his father again, lingering a little longer than he had before. His eyes were teary when he pulled away. His father looked down at him with an amused expression, hands on Claude’s biceps, as he wiped away the tears. 

“I’ll honour this. I promise.” 

“I wouldn’t have had it made if I didn’t think you would. Now get out of this so we can get started.” 

Claude nodded, beginning to undress in a daze. He was down to his undershirt and underwear when his father stopped him. 

“That’s enough. Pants and boots are pants and boots. Nothing special there. Go with the leather for now. The others are heavy armour.” 

Claude nodded and pulled them both on. “Tunic?”

His father nodded, but he grabbed the shirt and then directed Claude toward the full-length mirror he had in the corner of the room. 

“Actually, get rid of the undershirt,” his father told him as he grabbed the extra pieces. Claude pulled it off unceremoniously and tossed it across the room with the rest of his other clothing. He didn’t pay much attention to himself in the mirror. “This one first.” 

Claude took the fresh undershirt from him and pulled it on, tucking the bottom hem into the waist of his pants. 

“You’ve really filled out, kiddo. What happened to my gangly boy?” 

“He decided to fight a war,” Claude answered. 

His father handed him the outer tunic next with a sigh. As he was pulling that one over his head, his father spoke again. “That’s the girl, isn’t it? The one you were so hung up on.” 

Claude looked at his father over his shoulder in the mirror. “Yeah,” he answered sheepishly after a few moments of embarrassed silence. 

“Now that I’ve met her, I can see why. She’s got bright eyes. She must be sharp. And  _ you _ have grown in the last few moons. I can see what your mother meant. She’s good for you, that Byleth. Best be careful about how you look at her, though, if you're trying to keep things quiet.  _ Your _ eyes are still saying too much.” 

He left it at that, carefully showing Claude how to properly tie the sash, how to buckle into his cape correctly, where and how to attach his quiver, and how to put on his shoulder guard so that it wouldn’t slip off. 

“You can probably forgo this one for your conference, but I’d keep the cape if I were you,” his father suggested, knocking on the metal shoulder guard he’d just put on. “It ties the whole thing together.” 

Claude stared at himself in the mirror. He’d expected to have to wait a few more years for this. His hands came up to pull at the red straps holding his cape on, to smooth the front of the tunic down, pulling the bottom hem, shifting the sash to make sure it was on securely. The neckline was deeper than what he was used to, showing some of the definition in his chest as well as the hair. 

“How do you feel?”

Claude looked at his father in the mirror again for a moment, then reached up to push his unruly hair on his head back into place. “It’s more comfortable than I expected. And I look good.” 

“That’s my boy,” his father answered with a laugh. “Next order is a bath, and a fresh set of less formal clothes, but I have one more thing for you first.” 

Claude frowned, finally turning away from the mirror to watch his father. He went back to the lockbox with the keys, but instead of keys, he pulled out a small box made of a polished dark wood. 

“Your mother wanted me to give this to you.” 

He held the box out. Claude strode over and carefully took it, flipping the lid open and staring at the contents for fifteen seconds in shocked silence. “Why?” he finally asked. 

“That’s been in the family for a few generations. Your mother wore it for a while, but she gave it back to me when she moved back over here to take over House Daphnel so that I could give it to you one day.” 

Claude stared at the ring inside again. It was a simple and ageless thing, despite being a rather unique design. The silver band was delicately etched in a braid pattern, allowing the emerald at its heart to draw the attention. 

“Uh-”

“Take it,” his father insisted. “I am tired of carrying it around, and something tells me you’ll have a use for it in the near future.” 

Claude’s breath started to come in quicker and shorter as he stared at it. Thinking about how beautifully it would suit her colouring just made things worse, so he snapped the lid shut. 

“Did I totally misread you, kiddo? Are you okay?” 

“Yeah, I’m - sorry, Father, it’s just been a lot. I expected  _ this _ -” he waved himself up and down “-eventually, but not  _ this,” _ he finished as he shook the box a little. 

Silence fell between them again as his father regarded him curiously. “It looked like things were… on track, I guess. Least that's what your mother said,” he finally said. 

“We’re at war,” Claude reminded him. He still held the little box tightly as he drifted over to his father’s bed, sitting on the edge. His father followed him over. He flipped the lid open to stare at the ring again. “She’s meant a lot to me for a long time, but I - I can’t afford much now. We have so many people relying on us. Right now, we’re just…”

“Fucking?”

Claude winced visibly. “ _ Involved,”  _ he settled on. “But I’m afraid of what knowledge of that might do to us if it gets out. I’m sure the Empire already knows that they can set us back considerably just by killing one of us. If they knew they could also emotionally devastate us at the same time? One swift blow, and they win. It’s that simple. And anything can happen. I don’t want to get ahead of myself. And it’s only been, like, a week.” 

His father didn’t answer right away, instead booming out a laugh. “A  _ week? _ You’ve been dancing around each other for that long, that’s it’s only been a  _ week _ since - you need to learn to live a little!” 

“It’s dangerous.” 

“That’s what makes it more exciting, though, isn’t it?” 

Claude sighed, but then he smiled. “Can’t deny that.” 

_ "T _ _ hat’s  _ my boy.” He put an arm around Claude’s shoulders. “Look, if you’re really not ready, I’ll take it back. I didn’t want to put any pressure on you.” 

Claude’s mouth went a little dry. He was still staring at the ring inside. He could just see the way it would look on her hand, and it.. thrilled him. “No, I - maybe just until we’re going to head out? I’ll take it with me when we go.” 

“Sure, kiddo.” 

Claude handed the box back, and watched in silence as his father got up and locked it away again. Then he turned around, putting his hands on his hips, and taking a deep breath. “You know, I’m really proud of you, Khalid.” 

Claude couldn’t help but smile. “Thanks, Father.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I interpreted the Barbarossa class unlock as basically a confirmation that Claude's father has stepped down and unofficially given the role to Claude.


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Suggestive themes

Claude took a deep breath as he scanned the room. Everyone was settled in, murmuring amongst their families. 

Holst had recently taken over as head of House Goneril. He didn’t often speak at conferences, but when he did, his word carried a great deal of weight. Thankfully, he and Claude were on good terms, but Claude was still happier to see that he had Hilda with him, too. If _anything_ was going to sway Holst on an issue, it would be Hilda. 

Lysithea was making her first appearance at the round table, seated next to her father, who was looking more uncomfortable than usual. Lysithea leaned in to whisper something in her father’s ear. He nodded slowly as he listened. The look he gave her when she finished speaking told Claude that he would do whatever Lysithea suggested was best. 

Margrave Edmund sat calmly, not looking at Marianne who was seated at his side. Marianne went between making herself look up and around the room, and studying her lap as if she’d never seen it before. 

Count Gloucester looked as sour as ever, but he sat up tall and held his chin high. Lorenz looked nervous. Claude was surprised to see Lorenz throwing him a worried look whenever he could afford to. As always, getting Count Gloucester’s cooperation would be the most difficult. 

And _that_ was why Byleth was here. 

Claude cleared his throat. What little murmuring there was fell silent. He’d worn his new regalia, as his father suggested, which drew a few curious gazes. “Welcome. I’d like to thank you for your attendance today, and apologize for calling another round table so suddenly and urgently. Before we begin - I’m sure you’ve all noticed the new face at our table today.” Claude motioned toward Byleth, who was seated at his right side. “I’d like to formally introduce you all to Lady Byleth Eisner, acting Archbishop of the Church of Seiros.” 

Hilda smiled brightly at them; Lysithea and Marianne both gave little familiar waves. Lysithea’s father spoke. 

“Eisner?”

“Yes, my lord,” Byleth answered, nodding toward Lysithea’s father. “I take it you knew my father, Jeralt?”

“Who didn’t? He was a great mercenary and a good man,” Count Ordelia answered. “I was sorry to hear of his passing.” 

“You are the acting archbishop?” Count Gloucester looked ready to sink in his hooks. “How does one born to a mercenary come to be the highest authority in the Church?”

“One is gifted divine power by the Goddess herself,” Byleth answered firmly, “bears the Crest of Flames, and wields the Sword of the Creator.” 

“Anyone can claim to have gained divine power from the Goddess. What proof do we have that you possess any?” 

Murmurs began to spread around the table again. 

Byleth took in a quick, sharp breath before answering. “Firstly, there are five individuals in this room who were present at the time and can tell you about the incident - your son being one of them. Second, let us consider how very unintelligent it would be to disclose the exact details of that power among strangers to me, when word could get back to the Imperials, leading them to find a way to counter it and grind us all under their boots. I do not believe any of you would betray the confidence of this table, but you can never know who is listening.”

Silence fell across the table. It took all of Claude’s willpower not to smile at her for how brilliantly she’d shut that discussion down. 

“Suffice to say that the power granted to me by Sothis herself is being used for the benefit of the Church, the faithful, and our allies who are working to bring the Empire’s tyranny to an end. I am here simply to represent the Church, as Duke Riegan has already mentioned.” 

“I mean no offence, Lady Byleth, but I cannot help but wonder why Lady Rhea would leave the church in the hands of one so inexperienced with the hierarchy of the faith,” Margrave Edmund prodded. 

“Because there is a direct link between the Goddess Sothis and I. I would argue that I am the _only_ person who could be considered, in this case. After all, I’m the first to hear the voice of Sothis since Saint Seiros herself.” 

Claude quickly scanned the room. Holst looked positively bored. Count Ordelia and Margrave Edmund seemed satisfied with Byleth’s answers. Count Gloucester looked much the same as he did when he arrived. 

Count Gloucester leaned his elbows on the table, then, reinserting himself into the discussion. “What role does the Church play in this _war_ , Lady Byleth?” 

“The primary objective of the Church is to rescue Lady Rhea. We have highly trusted intelligence that reports her being held in Enbarr - intelligence we wouldn’t have had if not for our alliance with - with the Alliance. Primary witness. Unfortunately, the Church has fractured since her disappearance, and I myself was not able to return to the Church until a few moons ago. We require further assistance in order to make even a dent in the Imperial army. Duke Riegan proposed an alliance between the Church and what people he could muster at the time, and the Church agreed.” 

“Just what, then, is the primary objective of the Alliance?” 

“That’s what we’re here to answer, Count Gloucester,” Claude interjected. He saw Lorenz give a few tight nods in Byleth’s direction. Claude took a deep breath before continuing. “The reason I called this round table was to discuss the war and our response to it. We have been complacent for too long. The Emperor is cutting a swath across this continent. Her intent, we believe, is to destroy the political and social order as it stands. At one point, she may have wanted to instill a new order for the betterment of the people, but her actions are increasingly showing that she wishes to seize absolute power, instead. We cannot pretend that the Alliance and its people won’t be affected by this senseless slaughter.” 

Silence rang through the room. It was eerie, how quiet they all were. He continued. “Until about two weeks ago, we had no real indication that we had any chance of finding major success. Two weeks ago, we reclaimed the Great Bridge of Myrddin from the Empire, eliminating one of the Emperor’s most valued generals in the process. With the Bridge reclaimed, we have managed to prove to ourselves and the Emperor that their power is _not_ absolute, while eliminating the largest Imperial threat to our lands.”

“I’m less worried about the Empire than I am about the Almyran force that managed to get across my northern border. How did that happen, Duke Goneril?”

Holst finally leaned in, scowling. “How should I know? I’m only one man, I can only be in one place at once. And besides that - you wouldn’t know, Count, since you were safe in your castle tower, clutching your pearls - but there were no Almyran colours flown anywhere on the _fliers_. An army on wyvern-back doesn’t just stick to trade routes to get around.” 

“Only the Almyrans have companies full of fliers.” 

“Actually, I’m pretty sure I remember that Rhea’s closest advisor is a wyvern rider. Isn’t that right, Lady Byleth?” Holst asked. 

“If you mean Seteth, yes,” Byleth confirmed. “We do also have full companies of fliers.”

Holst nodded. “See? Not just Almyrans. It could have been anyone. Now, Duke Riegan - taking the Bridge is just the first step.” 

“That it is. Our intent is to push further into Empire territory. With enough strength, I’m confident we could reach Enbarr and put an end to this war by cutting out its heart. The problem is that we lack the strength as we stand.” 

And so the questioning began. Claude and Byleth spent over an hour answering them, from details on supply lines and expenses to strategies. 

Just when it looked like Byleth was reaching her limit, the table fell quiet. Holst sat back in his chair, shared a brief look with Hilda, then placed his palms on the tabletop. 

“I need to send some scouts past the Locket, see what our Almyra situation looks like. I can safely send half of our strength your way, possibly a little more later if the border is quiet. Now, you’re the far better strategist,” Holst told him, giving him a pointed pause, which Claude acknowledged with a dip of his head, “but I’d like to recommend my soldiers take over defense of the bridges. House Daphnel is strong, but they have better experience to suit your needs pushing into the Empire. My men are used to digging in and shoring up.” 

“Just what I was thinking,” Claude answered him. “Thank you.” 

“We will send what we can spare, as well. I’ll ensure we reroute trade to the monastery,” Margrave Edmund offered next. Marianne smiled at them from his side. 

“If House Goneril will be protecting the borders, then House Ordelia can also send the bulk of its force, though it’s not much by comparison. I hope they will prove insightful for you - many still hold memory of those who have allied themselves with the Empire.” 

Claude nodded his thanks to them, as well. Silence rang in the room for about fifteen seconds before Holst leaned in again, putting his elbows on the table. “What can we expect from you, Count Gloucester?” 

Lorenz’s father looked like he’d swallowed an entire lemon tree. But he was on the spot, now. It wasn’t just Claude looking at him expectantly, but all the other heads of houses. 

“We haven’t much in terms of military strength,” the Count stated finally, “but if the bridges will be protected, then what I have is at the Church’s disposal, as is our food supply.” 

“We thank you,” Byleth answered. She didn’t look at him, but he knew her well enough to know that she was displeased at the way he’d pledged himself. “We thank _all_ of you for your support. With this, we stand a great chance at turning the tide in our favour.” 

Claude waited for her to finish speaking. “Is there anything else that needs to be discussed while we’re here?” Silence around the table, a few head shakes. Lysithea was already beginning to collect herself to go. 

“If that’s it for today, I’d like to say one last thing.” Everyone’s attention turned to Byleth as she spoke. “The Church of Seiros has agreed to a mutual partnership with the Leicester Alliance in this. As such, I hope that you all will receive information and instruction from the war effort with equal respect, regardless of who seals the missive. The orders within and the decisions behind them are made mutually, and both parties will hold those who do not comply responsible.” 

Hilda, Lysithea, and Lorenz all broke into amused smiles. It took all of Claude’s willpower not to just kiss Byleth breathless right then and there when he realized what she had done. Instead, he watched with satisfaction as Count Gloucester stared at her in silence for ten seconds, then stood and swept from the room without another glance back. 

The rest of the group relaxed, then, collecting themselves to leave. Lorenz approached them almost immediately. 

“Excellent work, Professor.” 

“I’m sure you played no small part.” 

“It hasn’t been easy, I assure you. I will see you at the monastery.” Lorenz hurried out after his father. 

“Well, I’m glad that’s over with.” Holst has stood to approach them. A hand absently pushed his shoulder-length pink hair back off his face before he presented it for a shake. “It’s good to finally meet you, Professor. Hilda’s told me a lot.” 

“The feeling is mutual,” Byleth answered, taking his hand. 

Holst dropped his hand to his side when he was done, and took a moment to look at Claude’s outfit, no doubt recognizing it now that he could see it properly. “Listen, I know I said I’d send half - something tells me I don’t need to send scouts out to know that Almyra isn’t going to be an issue. I’ll send two thirds.” 

“Holst!” Hilda hissed at him. “Just do your diligence, send your scouts. What if you’re wrong?” 

“No, Hilda, I have a good feeling he’s right,” Claude answered. Holst gave him a pointed look, which he returned. 

Holst nodded. “We’ll be fine with a third, Hilda. Besides, I can’t go with you myself, can I? If father was still running the house, maybe… but I _can_ send you with something that’ll make staying alive a hell of a lot easier.” 

“What do you mean?” Hilda asked. 

“I’ll show you before we go.” 

By this point, Lysithea and Marianne had joined them. 

“It’s good to see you both,” Marianne told them with a smile. 

Claude smiled back. “I hope you haven’t had too hard a time with your families.” 

“Mine was easy,” Lysithea answered immediately, “especially since we can now gain control of the border.” 

“Unfortunately, Teach and I don’t have a lot of time for socializing right now,” Claude told them. “Now that we have an idea of numbers and what support we can expect, we have some letters to write and strategies to work on. But there will be dinner, as always. Will we see you there?” 

They all nodded. Marianne’s expression brightened for a moment. “Oh, um - are you writing to the church? I’ll be heading right back to the monastery, I can take word to them so you don’t need to send a letter.” 

Hilda nodded more quickly. “I was going to head to the Bridge with our soldiers before going back, so I can tell Judith.” 

“I’ll go with you, Marianne,” Lysithea offered. 

“Thank you.” 

“Well that makes our job a little easier. Thank you,” Claude told them. “We’ll see you all later, then.” 

Byleth smiled at them all before leading the way toward the back door of the conference room. His guards opened the doors, and she waited for him to catch up on the other side before continuing toward his study. 

Claude waited until they were behind the heavy door, locking it behind him, to allow himself a moment to relax a little. 

“Thank the Goddess _that’s_ over.” 

He turned away from the door at the sound of Byleth’s voice. She was already at his desk, her hands placed wide across the top as she leaned her weight on them. Her head was hanging as she looked at the map that was framed there. 

Claude crossed the room, stopping next to her with a wide smile. As he reached her, she stood up straight again, and he turned his back to the desk and leaned on the edge. “You were _amazing_ ,” he told her, emphasizing every word. “Did you _see_ Gloucester before he left? Realizing you’d just taken his church support so he wouldn’t have to answer to me and twisting it so that he did? Incredible. I need to bring you to these more often.” 

“Please don’t ever make me do this again,” she pleaded, but when he laughed, she laughed with him. 

He spun to face the desk as their laughter fell quiet, staring down at the map. “There’s really only one way through to Enbarr,” he said, tracing a fingertip from the Bridge of Myrddin, through Gronder Field, and stopping short on Fort Merceus. “This, here. Fort Merceus. Often referred to as the Stubborn Old General. This is what’s going to pose the biggest problem. The next one, anyway.” 

“What are the chances we can find blueprints or floor plans? Any way we can get inside besides the front gate?” 

“That’s what’s going to take time, and planning.” He looked at her and sighed. He was in no mood to be thinking strategy right now. He stood up straight again, looking over his shoulder toward the locked door. Unfortunately, his father and a few of his personal staff had keys to this room, and it didn’t have a secondary lock like his bedroom did. “I’m not much in the mood for planning, to be perfectly honest. I feel like a… _celebration_ may be in order.” 

“Is that so?” 

He smiled at her, pushing away from the desk and walking slowly toward the door as he spoke. “I really should check in with Nardel, see if he has news for me from anyone important. That’ll probably take, oh I don’t know… half an hour? But I think, after that, I’ll head to my room for a while to wait out dinner, change into something less formal.” He paused for a moment to look at her across the room, reaching for the door handle with key in hand. “You’re welcome to stay here as long as you like. You have your key?” 

She patted herself down and then nodded, pulling out a ring of keys to show him. 

“Great.” He unlocked the door and swung it open, affording her one last look over his shoulder. “I’ll see you later.” 

He found his father in his own study a few minutes later. “Good work out there, kiddo.”

“Thanks. Any news?” 

“Interesting tidbit from your mother. Looks like the Empire is finally making an effort to retaliate. She estimates, based on the timeline, that you may be able to meet them at Gronder Field. Also… she makes mention of someone flying Kingdom colours.” 

“Kingdom colours? Faerghus? But Dimitri is dead.” 

“I don’t know. It was a passing comment,” his father told him. 

“When did this come in?”

“Couple of days ago.” 

Claude frowned. “This is kind of important. Why wasn’t I told?” 

“Because it’s not time sensitive, and your mother wanted to wait until you were back on the frontlines again. I figured I’d share since you asked.” 

Claude sighed aggressively. “I need that report.” 

“Absolutely not.” 

“Excuse me?”

“That came in a private letter, _not_ a report.” 

“Then I need that letter. If Judith has information-”

“What part of _no_ don’t you understand, boy?” his father almost growled at him. “It came in a _private letter_ . The other information is strictly between your mother and I, and is _not_ for your eyes. If it was time sensitive and imperative, she would have sent a _proper_ report.” 

Claude blinked a few times and then sighed in defeat. “Sorry. You’re right.” 

His father shook his head slowly. “Nosy brat.” 

“I’m _sorry,”_ Claude repeated, putting his face in his palm and shaking his head. “A battle at Gronder puts me in a very dangerous position. If I want to get out of that fight alive, I need all the information I can get.” 

His father sighed, too, any signs of frustration gone. “What makes it so dangerous?” 

“The massive ballista in the middle of the field that can shred my wyvern’s wings.” 

“... Oh.” 

“Having control of that ballista is key to winning the fight. It would be nice to know if we have time to claim it, but I doubt we’d be able to. Looks like I have more work to do.” Claude shook his head. “Anyway, thank you. I need to take some time this afternoon. That round table wiped me out. No guards, no house staff. I’m shutting myself in for a few hours.” 

“Is that so? Well, have fun,” his father answered him in an amused tone. “Let me know if you need anything.” 

“I will,” Claude answered, and then strode to the door, trying and failing to suppress the heat that rose to his face as he smiled at his father before closing it behind himself. 

His trip back to his own room was short and peaceful. He could hear his father’s study door closing again from around the corner as he reached his own room. Keys already in hand, he unlocked his door and slipped inside, locking and bolting it behind himself. 

His room mirrored the one Byleth was staying in, though his was more of an L shape. The same bed was pushed with its headboard against the far wall, which was deeper than the master guest room. The door to his closet was to the right of the bed, and then the door to his washroom on the right wall where it jutted into the room. His room had large windows high up on the deeper part of the right wall. The bottom half of that wall was taken up by bookshelves, as was the entire left wall, floor to ceiling. The shape of the room, because the washroom was walled off, allowed for a cozy little study nook under the high windows on the right wall. His hearth was on the same wall as the door, looking into the study nook. On the other side of the door were a pair of mannequins and a mount for Failnaught, which currently sat displayed in it. 

_Finally_ , he could deflate, let his shoulders slump and his head sink a little. He’d really been hoping to pass through Gronder uncontested, but he should have known better. Byleth led them through that battle last time; he’d lean on her for this one, too. 

He automatically started to think of strategies on instinct, but he shook his head to clear it. _I can worry about that later._ For now, he wanted to take some time to relax and unwind a little. It would be far nicer if Byleth joined him, of course, but if she didn’t… well, he’d figure it out. 

First things first, he needed to get out of his new regalia. It was quite comfortable - more so than he expected - but it was still formal and armoured, and he didn’t want to spend more time in it than necessary. 

He stripped down to just the undershirt and pants, and was in the process of buckling the cape onto the mannequin that he displayed it on when the bookshelf hiding the tunnel between his room and his study began to slide across the floor. 

He looked behind himself, watching the shelf about halfway along the left wall swing outward. Byleth stepped out from behind it, quickly stepping around and pushing it closed again. 

Claude smiled warmly at her. 

“Oh good, I did understand you correctly,” she said quietly with a smile. “I was worried I was reading too far into it.” 

“Not at all. I’m glad you came,” he answered her quietly. He made one last check that his cloak was secure, then left it behind to cross the room and pull her in close. Her arms snaked around his waist, and she leaned her ear against his chest. 

He just held her there for about thirty seconds. They’d been on strictly professional terms so far this week, and every day that passed like that, Claude was more and more sure that he was going to slip. He took a deep breath, the smell of her both calming him and making his heart race. 

Her head lifted from his chest. He looked down at her, studying her face, carefully trying to assess how she was feeling. Round tables were stressful, after all, and she wasn’t accustomed to that type of work like he was. 

“You look stressed.” 

“I am,” she answered him. 

He leaned down to kiss her hesitantly, but the moment their lips connected, his blood roared, taking him by surprise with its ferocity. Byleth surged up on her toes to meet it, a tiny growl resounding through her. She dug her nails into his back, making him suck in a sharp breath through his nose, and he tangled a hand up into the hair at the back of her head, forcing them apart.

She gasped as he pulled her hair, coercing her to tip her head back and expose her throat. He could see her dragging in ragged breaths, her cheeks and lips pink, her chin red from his beard. He held her there like that for five seconds, maybe ten, savouring the look of her before diving in to place a kiss just under her jawline. 

What air was in her lungs escaped her in a shaky _whoosh_ , then sucked back in suddenly as he pulled away. Her high collar was in his way, and he really didn’t appreciate its interruption. 

He let her hair go, putting his hands on her bare waist to push back and look at her outfit, trying to figure out where to start. 

Her hands left his back to pull at the thin belt hanging on her hips holding her dagger and sword on first. It clattered to the floor at their feet. Claude only spared a moment to think that the most important sword in the history of Fódlan belonged in a better place before she tugged at the larger belt at her waist. It slid from her grip and pooled at her feet with the first. 

She flung the loose end of the sash - or was it meant to be a scarf? - over her shoulder, then reached up with both hands to the golden inner collar that so perfectly framed her clasp on her shirt. She twisted the ends, and he watched as it opened wider, almost like a pair of tongs around her neck, before she began to pull it over her head. The outer collar was surprisingly stiff, as were the shoulders. Her left arm slid out of a sleeve he hadn’t realized even _was_ one, the chains of circular golden decoration hidden by her sash-scarf _tinkling_ as it moved. 

She dropped that to the floor, too. It may have _clanged_ if not for the other pieces discarded there, or the soft fabric of her cape saving it from landing directly on the stone as it pooled. 

The only piece that remained of her regalia was her diadem. He reached up and pulled it off of her head for her, then walked it over and placed it down carefully on the little table to the left of his bed. 

She followed him over, her steps assured on the stone floor. As soon as the diadem was out of his hands, she grabbed his arm and spun him around to give him another desperate, hungry kiss. 

Whatever shyness she’d had a couple of weeks ago seemed long gone. Suddenly, she was in charge, not him, and she crowded him, forcing him to backpedal until he felt the edge of his mattress behind his legs. 

He tried to spin her around so that he could throw her onto the bed, but she wasn’t having it; after a minute or so of fighting for dominance, she won, and he fell backward, breathless. 

“Someone’s fiery,” he finally teased. 

Her tongue peeked out as she dragged her bottom lip between her teeth. She didn’t say anything to that. Instead, she kicked up a foot to pull one of her boots off, tossing it across the room before following suit with the other foot. As soon as it was out of her hand, she began crowding him again, forcing him to push back further onto the mattress to make room for them both. 

He twisted so that they were laying the right direction, and then broke their kiss, letting his head fall back against the pillows beneath him. Claude was reminded starkly of the way she’d sat over him, that night on the road; it sent a little shiver up his spine. 

“I can see the wheels turning,” Byleth said finally. Her voice was rough. “No thinking right now.” 

“I think you’ll like what I was thinking about, actually.” 

“What’s that?”

He sighed deeply, his breath coming in ragged. “A small detail of our _celebration_. Would you rather find out right now? Because I’m rather enjoying taking my time.” 

She gave him one more wicked smile before ducking down to meet him again. 

  
  


* * *

  
Claude and Byleth were the last ones to arrive back at Garreg Mach. 

First, the new saddle he’d ordered for Sothe took an extra day, due to one of the craftsmen working on it falling ill. When it was complete, Claude took Byleth out to give it a test run, and spotted a storm approaching off the coast. He hurried them back to the estate, wanting to make sure that Sothe was safe before it hit. 

It raged for two days before it was quiet enough that he felt safe flying. Thankfully, the new saddle was the perfect size to be used regularly by him, but also fit a second person on. Byleth, especially, had a more comfortable trip home. It took eight days, thanks to heavy fog part way through their flight. He accidentally steered them a little off course, since he couldn’t see any landmarks below them. 

It was just before dinner when he landed Sothe in the Academy courtyard, letting Byleth off before taking Sothe to the aviary. Her scales were a healthy, shiny white when he took her new saddle off. 

“Makes a big difference, doesn’t it?” he asked her, and she cooed contentedly in response. 

As soon as she was properly stabled, he made his way toward the Entrance Hall. An Alliance knight stopped him with a salute. “Lady Judith took Lady Byleth up to the cathedral, Duke, and asked me to send you after them.” 

He blinked a few times. Being called _Duke_ here was just… strange. “Thank you. As you were.” 

The soldier saluted him again before returning to his work. 

Claude picked up his pace, wondering as he walked why his mother had taken her to the cathedral instead of the war room. 

It did him no good to dwell on it; he had more important things to be thinking about. He felt himself relax as he climbed the steps from the bridge and saw them standing with a few others in the middle of the cathedral. He hadn’t even realized he was mentally preparing for an ambush. 

“There you are, boy,” Judith called as Claude passed through the wide open front doors. She didn’t speak again until he was stopped within the boundary of the circle of conversation. “We were starting to worry you forgot how to get here. Byleth was just filling me in on logistics. How did it go?” 

“All of that went about as well as it could have,” he answered her, giving Lorenz a nod across the circle. “Each lord has agreed to provide us with soldiers and supplies.”

“I’m impressed you were able to convince all of those scattered nobles to help us.” And Judith sounded like it, too. Claude smiled a little, feeling prideful for a moment. “I thought they would quarrel about how much support they should each provide. That’s what they usually do.” 

“Well, Duke Goneril took the initiative in taking on responsibilities - and ensuring anyone else gave their share. Though I will say, Count Gloucester was _very_ cooperative.” He paused, leaving the silent _compared to usual_ to hang in the air for a few seconds. “I presume that was because you spoke to him in advance, Lorenz?” 

Lorenz took a deep breath and nodded. “I merely explained the situation at hand, then my father simply followed your lead, Claude. Though I believe it was because you had the Professor there to represent Lady Rhea. My father _is_ a pious follower of the Church of Seiros.” 

“I don’t doubt it. I wasn’t under the delusion that it was my personal charm that unified everyone.” Claude looked at Byleth, and suddenly, he realized that he hadn’t - well he _had_ thanked her, but he hadn’t _thanked_ her. “Thanks for that, by the way. I hope you don’t feel like I used you… because I sort of used you.” 

She snorted and rolled her eyes. Mock disapproval, he knew, nothing more. “Don’t mention it.” 

“I appreciate that. We don’t have time to be picky about our methods,” he reminded her. But… “Byleth? Be honest. You’re having a hard time adjusting to your new role, aren’t you? You weren’t even a follower of Seiros to begin with, and somehow you’ve ended up as a representative of the Church.”

She shrugged. “What I said to the lords at the table was the truth. There’s no one else who should be, whether I like it or not.” 

He regarded her in silence for a moment. She had a look in her eye that told him she didn’t quite believe it, herself. “I realize you may feel guilty about… _deceiving_ the believers for our cause, but this is _just_ what the Archbishop wanted, and she’s the highest authority in the Church. Besides, as wielder of the Sword of the Creator, it’s undeniable that you’re special. I think you should be more confident in yourself, and use your position to the fullest. That was the first time I’ve ever seen you do it, and I have to say, you handled yourself incredibly well.” 

“Indeed,” Lorenz agreed. 

Byleth looked sheepishly at her feet for a few seconds, until Shamir appeared over her shoulder out of seemingly nowhere. 

“Welcome back. I have news.” They all turned to look at her. Her face, as always, was severe and carved from stone. “Our enemy is gathering troops at Fort Merceus. Their army is immense. Likely led by a renowned general. Or perhaps even…”

“Edelgard?” Byleth asked quietly. 

“Well now, _that_ would be interesting.” When he was thinking of the fight to come at Gronder, he hadn’t actually considered that the Emperor herself would make an appearance. That changed the stakes, drastically. “If we can defeat the Emperor, then the Empire will collapse.” 

Judith shifted her weight from one foot to the other. “There’s something else. An unidentified army has approached the Great Bridge of Myrddin. They passed through Daphnel and Gloucester territories from the northwest with incredible speed. They’re raising the banner of House Blaiddyd. Perhaps they are remnants of the Faerghus royal family.” She paused to heave a sigh. “From what we could tell, they posed no threat to the citizens of the Alliance, and so we refrained from engaging them in needless combat.”

“Maybe they hope to fight against the Empire to avenge their fallen prince,” Claude mused. Dimitri had deserved better than his fate. “And what about the Bridge itself?”

“Obviously we wouldn’t let them pass without receiving envoys first. We thought they may try to force their way through. We considered firing warning arrows, but they left immediately, heading east.” 

“Did Sylvain or Ashe have anything to say about it?”

Judith shook her head. “They were just as confused as the rest of us.” 

“Are they intending to use one of the bridges in Ordelia territory?” 

“Most likely,” Judith confirmed, “but the Imperial army still controls those bridges.” 

“Only until the Goneril soldiers get there,” Claude reminded her. 

Judith continued without acknowledging him. “I can’t imagine what they intend to do in the Empire, even if they _do_ manage to break through.” 

“I’m reluctant to ease up on our surveillance, but it would be difficult to track them there…” He debated it for ten seconds or so. “For now, let’s assume they’re just troops belonging to the old Kingdom. In any case, we should proceed with caution. Soon, we’ll be entering Empire territory ourselves. If our enemies are going to intercept us with an attack, it will probably be at Gronder Field.” 

Lorenz rolled his neck uncomfortably. Byleth’s eyes were sad. She had been hoping against hope that he was wrong. 

“Well, friends - it looks like I have work to do,” Claude finally told them with a sigh. “I’d appreciate your input on strategies for Gronder, Byleth.” 

Byleth nodded, giving their company a polite smile before following him out of the cathedral. 

The bell signalling the beginning of dinner service sounded as they reached the bridge. “Let’s grab some food and take it up to your old man’s office.”

“Sure,” she agreed, then continued to follow in silence. 

He held her tray of food for her as she dug into her pocket fifteen minutes later, fishing for the ring of keys that would let them into Jeralt’s old office. Once the door was unlocked, she pushed it open, letting him in before closing it and locking it behind herself. 

“Here, I’ll take that back,” she offered, but he shook his head, taking both trays with him to the little tea table in front of the couch and depositing them side-by-side. He sat in front of his with a sigh, and she followed his lead. 

They ate in silence for a few minutes. 

“I’m worried about that ballista in the middle of the field,” Byleth said finally. 

“Me, too. It could shred Sothe’s wings apart, or just pierce her clean through.” He took a deep drink from his mug. “Gronder is in House Bergliez territory, but it’s close to House Varley. I don’t know enough about where the other former students are, but if Edelgard is smart - and she is - she’ll have Bernadetta there, just waiting for us.” 

“Seems to me that we’ll probably enter the field much the same way we did last time, if this other army is going to cross in Ordelia territory. That’s both a blessing and a curse.” 

“Because we can use similar tactics, but the enemy will know what to expect,” Claude finished for her. “Let’s finish eating, and then we can puzzle it out over a map.” 

She watched him with a curious expression on her face for about ten seconds. “Did you intentionally give Sothe that name?”

“What?” 

“Oh, I guess - huh.”

“What are you talking about?”

She shook her head. “It’s just - a book that Ashe loaned me, back when I was still teaching you all. He was insistent that I’d love it. It’s a story about a guy named… wow, how have I forgotten? Mike? Something like that. He was a mercenary working for a company his father led, like me, so that seemed to be enough for Ashe to think I’d love it.” 

She paused to take a bite of her food, then settled back into the couch, relaxing a bit. “It _was_ good. There was a sequel, and it expanded more on a couple of minor characters from the first. One of them was a guy named Sothe.” 

“Huh. I’ve never heard of it before.” 

“Where did you get her name from, then?” 

He looked at her intently for a few seconds before putting his knife and fork down. He turned more toward her on the couch. “I’ll tell you, but you have to _promise_ not to laugh at me.” 

“That’s asking a lot,” she teased. 

He chuckled, then took in a deep breath. “Well, after the battle here… we did what we could, and then fled into Gloucester territory. We were waiting for news and escorts, not comfortable with travelling alone. It was Ju - my mother came to get me. She showed up an hour or two after Shamir confirmed that your body couldn’t be found.

“None of us took it well, but… I took it _really_ hard. We had - I just kept thinking, you know, that the Goddess owed us a miracle. That we were _fated_ to work toward our dreams and ambitions together, and I was ill-equipped to be taking that on alone. I _needed_ you, even then - _especially_ then. And I had convinced myself that without a body, you couldn’t be dead. They couldn’t confirm it, so I wouldn’t believe it until they could.” 

He paused to really take a good look at her next to him. Her eyes and brows were scrunched up in sympathetic apology, threatening to spill over tears. Knowing the door was closed and locked, he held out a hand toward her. She instantly put hers in it and squeezed. 

“I waited until all the others were on their way home, and then Judith and I went to Derdriu, waiting on a round table,” he continued. “The table was more divided then. Count Gloucester was already being invaded, Count Ordelia was reclaimed by the Empire with barely a struggle. Hilda’s father was preparing to hand the House over to Holst, who was busy at Fódlan’s Locket and couldn’t be there for the talks. Margrave Edmund wasn’t concerned because of how far from the border he is. My grandfather was so frustrated, but there was little he could do on his own, and even less that I could do. So I stuck to my plan, and I went back home.

“I got back - was it just after I turned nineteen?” He tried to remember exactly, but gave up; it wasn’t important. “I spent the time leading up to my twentieth birthday either studying advanced tactics on my own, or out getting in some practice with wyvern wrangling.” 

“What happened to the one you were with before?”

“I left it with the church when I went back to Derdriu.” He looked down at their hands, still clasped together as he continued. “We call that important wyvern wrangle the Hunt. It happens when you turn twenty - the goal is to wrangle and tame a wild wyvern that will become your partner. I guess it’s a status symbol, too. Most people go about it as you’d expect them to - it’s called wyvern wrangling for a reason - but I had a bit of a different experience. 

“Sothe was young. I could hear her crying from quite a distance, but I got as close as she would let me and then set up my camp there. Her mother was dead. Looked like she’d been in a fight to protect her and lost, but Sothe survived. She was mourning when I found her. I gained her trust over the course of almost a week with food and the warmth of the fire. I talked to her. She had a couple of unsuccessful hunts, but the first one she succeeded in, she brought back to me to share. And then I knew I had her.

“I had… a lot of time on my hands. I spent a lot of it thinking. Mourning, still, too. Trying to get some tactics studying in. I remember, I - I had been thinking about you. I was angry at Edelgard, at the entire Empire, for taking you from us, just wallowing in that misery, when I looked up at Sothe napping nearby. Her scales were brown, which is normal for a young wyvern, but the sun was shining on them, and they were reflecting… green.” 

He reached up with his free hand to brush some hair back off of Byleth’s face, tucking it behind her ear. She blushed under his touch. 

“It was the same colour as your hair, oddly enough. I thought about naming her after you, but it didn’t feel right, because there was no way you were dead, you _couldn’t_ be. Besides, how confusing would it be if I did that when I managed to find you again? Because I _would_ find you again.” He gave her a sheepish smile, but her smile in return was warm. “And then I thought… maybe it’s a sign from your Goddess. Maybe it’s a sign from Sothis herself, a little ray of hope for me to cling to. But I didn’t want to name her after your Goddess, because that felt like it was asking for trouble. So I thought - if Sothis were my friend like you were, what would I call her?”

“Soth,” Byleth murmured. “Like you call me By.” 

“Exactly,” he told her with another smile. “I tried writing it down, but it looked weird without the ‘e’ on the end. When she woke up, I asked her if she liked it, and she did. And then I asked her if she wanted to stay with me, and… she did.”

Byleth looked at him for a few seconds in silence. “I locked the door, right?”

He nodded. She tightened her grip on his hand, pulling him forward toward her so that she could kiss him. It was tender, gentle, full of promise, but she let him go after only a few seconds. 

“I meant it when I said I never gave up on you coming back,” he said quietly. “And that small, little thing… it helped me. I had a lot of uncertainty until then. Funny how that happens, isn’t it?” 

“I’m sorry I kept you waiting so long.” 

“It was worth the wait.” He sat back again, putting a little space between them. “Come on, let’s finish our dinner. We _do_ have work to do.” 

Byleth rolled her eyes dramatically and reached for her food again. “If you insist.” 

Byleth left him about two hours later. They were confident in a strategy for Gronder, but he wanted to take more time to look at approaches for Fort Merceus. He didn’t think Edelgard would let herself fall on the field, and he wanted to be ready to keep pressing on. 

He gave up when the moon was high in the sky, taking the shortest route he knew back to his room. He was surprised to find his mother walking down the hall of the dorms toward him. 

“There you are. I’ve been waiting for hours.” 

“You could have told me before we left.” 

“I wasn’t expecting you to take that long.” She motioned back down the hall behind them, moving aside to let him go first. “Do I want to know what kept you?”

“Trying to figure out how to capture Fort Merceus,” he answered as he swept past. “That’s a suicide mission even _with_ a solid strategy. My contingencies are going to need contingencies.” 

He reached his door and unlocked it, letting his mother in before closing and locking it behind himself. She took the chair at his desk, so he sat on the edge of his bed. She turned in the chair to face him.

“I’m sorry I didn’t send you a proper report,” Judith started, leaning forward and resting her elbows on her knees. “I had expected you to be back sooner than you were. Was everything okay?” 

Claude sighed deeply and nodded. “I had ordered a new saddle, and it took a little longer than I was told it would, and then a storm blew in. We were grounded for two days. And _then_ we hit a patch of fog on the way back. It put us a little off-course.” 

“Bad luck,” Judith agreed. “What’s the actual plan? Who’s giving us what?”

“Goneril is sending two-thirds of their strength to hold the border. He asked for it, made a good point that your people are better to have on the move. Gloucester pledged soldiers and supply lines to the Church, and Edmund and Ordelia pledged the same to the effort.” 

Judith frowned deeply. “Is Gloucester going to be a problem?”

Claude smiled as he remembered it. “No. You can thank Byleth for that one.” 

“Huh. I’m not going to lie: I didn’t think she had it in her.” 

“I don’t think any of us did,” Claude admitted, “but it’s a good thing she caught it.” 

“So what’s the plan for _us_?” Judith prodded. 

“We’re going to try to be ready to go for the day after tomorrow. If not, the day after that. I don’t want to cross into the Empire until the Goneril soldiers can take over at the border for us. Once they do, we cross and we wait. If we’re _extremely_ lucky, we can take Edelgard down at Gronder and cut this thing off at the head, but I’m not holding my breath for that.” 

“That’s for the best. Before I forget, I received a report after we spoke earlier - that army, with the House Blaiddyd colours? House Ordelia sent word. They punched through the western Ordelia border bridge. It’s unoccupied at the moment. We’re not sure if the Empire has enough people nearby to retake it. If Goneril is lucky, they may avoid a fight.” 

Claude nodded absently, his thoughts drifting for a few seconds. Something had just occurred to him. “What are the chances that Dimitri survived?” he asked, not expecting an answer. 

“Better than you’d think,” his mother confirmed. “It’s next to impossible to get accurate intelligence in Fhirdiad right now, and I haven’t really had a need to send people there. If I remember correctly, there was no public execution. They probably locked him up and pushed a narrative to get the people to submit. Not unlike what they’ve done with Rhea.” 

Claude reached up and scrubbed at his eyes with the heels of his palms. “Byleth and I have worked out strategies. We’ll be fine. I’m going to call a war meeting tomorrow for after lunch. If you learn anything more concrete about this Kingdom army or Goneril’s armies, let me know.” 

Judith stood, and Claude did the same. She waved him in, holding her arms out to her sides a little. He smiled and stepped in, wrapping his arms securely around his mother’s ribs, allowing her to just hold him for a moment. 

They stood in comfortable silence for about twenty seconds before Judith broke it, letting him go and putting space between them. “You need to be careful of how you look at her, baby boy. Your face isn’t saying anything, but your eyes are saying a _lot._ ” 

“Really?” He sighed. “Father said the same thing.”

Judith nodded at him. “It’s not easy, but you’ll figure it out.” She patted herself down to make sure she hadn’t lost anything and then started toward the door. “Oh, there was _one_ more thing.” 

“Yeah?”

“I told _Nardel_ that the next time you insist on reading our private correspondence, he should allow you to. It might be a good chance for you to learn some new tricks to keep your lady happy.” 

“I said I was-” he started, but cut off when her words properly sank in. His face instantly flooded with heat, and he put it in his hand to hide his shame. “Well, there goes any sleep I thought I could get tonight. Thanks for that, _Judith._ ” 

Judith just laughed at him brightly. “Maybe you’ll think before making demands next time. Goodnight, boy,” she said over her shoulder as she unlocked the door and let herself out. 

Claude just shook his head at her. He waited until she closed the door, then crossed the room to lock it again, leaning on it heavily, palms spread and elbows locked. He sighed and stared at his feet. 

He could feel the weight again, now that he was back here. It was immense. It settled over his shoulders like a comfortable shawl, a familiar burden he knew he’d carry for a long time after this war was over. He wondered if Byleth was feeling it, too. 

He pushed himself off the door and headed for his bags. He still hadn’t had a chance to unpack from their trip yet, so he grabbed the smaller of the two and pulled it open. 

He reached in, feeling the fabric of his new regalia in his hand, and pulled the outer tunic out gently. _Maybe I’ll wear it tomorrow, let the others see it so they know to expect it._ He repeated the process until all the pieces were removed. He laid them on top of his long dresser, moving stacks of books out of the way to make room. 

He reached in one last time, knowing there was one more thing left in the very bottom. It took a moment for him to find it tucked into a corner. He let out a breath he hadn’t known he was holding as he pulled the little box out. 

His father had surprised him most with this. He flipped the lid open, staring once more at the etched silver ring and the large emerald at its heart for almost a minute before snapping the lid shut again with a sharp _clack._

There were so many reasons to look forward to winning this war, but this ring, and what it implied, had to be the best of them. 


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Major violence, death, and grief warnings for section 1

Gronder Field was too quiet in the aftermath of their battle. Carrion birds circled in flocks overhead, waiting for the fires to die and the living to leave so they could pick through what remained for their next meal. 

Claude landed Sothe east of the scorched ballista. Judith and Seteth had taken over coordinating the collection of their army’s lost, so he came to see how the Kingdom was faring. 

There were two fires burning in the southeast corner of the field already. One was a raging inferno, it’s heat reaching him even here, almost a hundred feet away. The second was a private fire, almost burnt down completely now, for Dimitri.

The Kingdom - what was left of it - had been annihilated. Of those who marched with their rightful king, only about thirty foot soldiers had survived. They were in the shelter of the Alliance now, swearing bloody vengeance against the Empire. 

His attention was drawn to Sylvain, his vivid red hair making him easy to spot at a distance. He walked slowly, about fifty feet away, toward a fallen pegasus. He stepped around to its far side, kneeling down and disappearing for about fifteen seconds. When he stood again, he turned around to walk back the way he came, Ingrid’s long blonde hair cascading over his arm. 

Ashe hurried over from another, smaller line of bodies, taking Ingrid from Sylvain so he could place her among their other fallen friends. Sylvain just stood there, watching Ashe go, his arms empty. When Ashe placed her down with the others, Sylvain sank to his knees in the bloody soil, bracing himself on his palms as his head fell between his shoulders. 

Claude hadn’t heard Byleth approach. He started when she spoke next to him. 

“We almost lost him, too. Four times. Twice against Felix. He should have had the advantage.” 

Ashe was at his side now, sitting in the dirt facing the line of bodies. 

“I sent him that way, hoping he could persuade them to join us, but they…” 

Byleth sniffled. Claude looked away from Sylvain and Ashe as Petra joined them near the line of bodies. 

Byleth looked like hell, worse than he’d seen her look since her father was murdered. Her skin was pale, dark circles under her haunted, sunken, bloodshot eyes all the more pronounced. 

She looked back at him. “We almost lost you, too. You flew too close. Bernie got a lucky shot off, and...”

Claude frowned, confused. He’d been especially careful to stay out of range; Bernadetta hadn’t been able to touch him. 

“I stayed away, like we planned - how could I have flown too close?” 

“Oh. I guess I - Have I never explained it to you?” She ran a hand down her face. “The power that Sothis gave me - I can turn back time.” 

Claude blinked a few times in shock. “You can - turn back time? Did I hear that right? That’s impossible.” 

“She _is_ a goddess. I can only turn back a few minutes, at most, and only so many times - it’s exhausting, moreso the more I use it. And I really had to use it today.” She sighed deeply again, looking away from him and back toward Sylvain, Ashe, and Petra. 

Ashe and Sylvain were at opposite ends of the line of bodies, a torch held in hand. They seemed to be waiting for some signal, and then knelt, placing their torches next to their fallen friends in unison. Ashe stood and began to walk back toward their armies; Sylvain stood and turned around into a waiting embrace from Petra. 

“I’ve seen you all die at least once,” Byleth continued. “Lorenz once against the Death Knight, Lysithea in the Holy Mausoleum, so many of you so many times to Black Beasts. You went down against that bandit leader in Zanado, I remember. Got too ambitious, trying to keep Marianne safe. And when the Empire first attacked the monastery... You took an arrow that was meant for me, straight through - none of that was as hard to see as this.”

“Will you be okay?”

“Eventually,” she told him. She tried to smile, but it was pained. “I’m going to go talk to Sylvain, unless you need me for anything?” 

Claude shook his head and stood, watching her go. Sothe crooned sadly next to him. 

“I know, girl.” He stroked down the side of her neck absently. 

Sylvain stepped away from Petra as Byleth closed in, reaching his hands up to his face. They stood facing each other for a moment before Sylvain’s knees seemed to give out on him again. Byleth caught him, sinking to her knees with him, the two of them clinging to each other in their grief. 

Claude sighed again, climbing up into Sothe’s saddle. Petra had started to follow the path Ashe had taken, so he flew over and landed nearby. 

“Want a lift back?”

Petra jogged over, swinging up and into the saddle behind him with practiced ease. “I would be appreciating that greatly.” 

He got them airborne again before turning to look at her over his shoulder. Her hands were fisted tightly in the sides of his shirt. “You doing okay?” 

“I am understanding why you might be having worry, but I am fine,” Petra answered. “I was a prisoner of the Empire. They were not my friends like you are. But Sylvain and Ashe, they will not be okay. They will be needing time to heal.” 

“We struck a serious blow against the Empire today,” Claude answered her as they began to descend. “I think we can afford to take some time.” 

“That is good.” 

They finished their descent and landed in silence. As soon as Sothe was steady, Petra slid off her back. 

Sothe didn’t give him time to dismount, instead winging them skyward again. He grabbed for Failnaught on instinct, but there was nothing to see. She carried them back to the field, where Byleth was walking ahead of Sylvain. 

Sothe landed ahead of Byleth, and Claude waited for her to reach them. 

“He wanted to walk back on his own, have a few minutes to compose himself,” Byleth explained as Claude leaned down to give her a hand up into the saddle. She settled in quickly and wrapped her arms around his waist, holding her own forearms so her grip wouldn’t slip as Sothe took them up. 

When they landed, Claude was surprised to see Lysithea standing nearby. He quickly slid off Sothe’s back, holding a hand out to tell Byleth to wait there. 

He wandered into the sea of soldiers, looking for Judith. Thankfully, she was easy to find. 

She was knelt down next to one of her men, holding his hand against his chest. She spotted Claude coming, looking up and meeting his eye for only a split second before diverting her attention back to the man on the ground. 

He was young, maybe only a few years older than him and his classmates. His breathing was shallow and slow. Claude watched as those breaths came in slower and slower, until the last one left his lungs. 

Judith slipped her hand out from his and stood gingerly. 

“I’m sorry,” Claude told her as he finally stepped closer. 

She had an odd look in her eye as she regarded him. “Just the reality of war. Doesn’t always make it easier.” 

“I know.” 

“How are you holding up, boy?”

“I’m alright, compared to most of the others. Byleth has had a rough day.”

“So have your Kingdom conscripts.” 

“Yeah.” Claude heaved a deep sigh. “The Empire took heavy casualties, and the Emperor retreated. I was hoping for your thoughts on whether to pursue or fall back ourselves and use some more time to plan.” 

“We should try to get back to Myrrdin tonight, at least. We have to move _somewhere._ The smoke and the smell would be enough to keep people from sleeping, nevermind what they experienced here today.” She looked around herself, scanning for runners on instinct as she continued. “We need to give people time to heal, and I don’t think we could catch the Empire before they reached Fort Merceus in time, anyway. We may as well head back to the monastery so you can plan with all of your tools at your disposal.” 

“Sounds good. Let’s make it happen, then. I’m going to fly ahead, and take Byleth with me. We’ll have Goneril’s soldiers work on getting the place ready for a camp.” 

“Stay safe, boy. We’ve lost enough good men today.” 

“We have,” he agreed, and then he turned back the way he came with a heavy heart, but a clear mind. 

  
  


* * *

  
  


Claude laid next to Byleth near the Alliance end of the Bridge, shoulder to shoulder, fingers lazily twined together, on the roof of the officer’s barracks they were staying in. Their day had far from ended with the battle at Gronder. The last of their immediate inner circle had arrived just before dinnertime. They took enough time to eat what they could stomach, and then called a war meeting. 

He gave them one last chance to back out. Thankfully, no one did. 

He was going to have to go back home to Derdriu, call another round table. The lords wouldn’t be thrilled with all the travelling they were doing, but he didn’t want information this important sent out in a missive. Besides, he needed to ask for a little more. Best to do that in person. 

Lysithea had also given them some interesting insight regarding the Empire’s allies. He needed to do some digging. His libraries in Derdriu would likely have better information than the monastery’s. 

“What time will you leave tomorrow?” Byleth asked, breaking their comfortable and lengthy silence. 

He watched a single bright star twinkle up above. “First light, ideally. Or whenever I wake up - _if_ I can get to sleep.” 

She huffed an unamused laugh out of her nose. “What do you want me to focus on while you’re away?”

“I trust your judgement,” he answered her, “but finding some sort of lead on those mages Lysithea mentioned would be a good idea. Or coming up with a brilliant plan to not get us all killed at Fort Merceus.” 

“Tall order.” 

Silence fell between them again. Another star twinkled up above. He scanned for familiar constellations, tracing their paths in the sky when he found them. 

He spotted a constellation in the sky that brought back a rather vivid and unexpected memory. “Hey, Byleth?”

“Mm?”

“Remember the night of the ball? You came up to the Goddess Tower and met me there.” 

“I wasn’t expecting you,” she told him with a quiet laugh. This one held some humour. “I just wanted to get away and rest my feet for a bit.” 

“I know what you mean.” He turned his head sideways to look at her, and found her already looking at him. “We made a prayer, that night.” 

“Yes. Sothis found it quite amusing, if I remember correctly. Said you were trying too hard.” 

Claude rolled his eyes. “Well, yeah. I’m not really one for prayer, remember?” What _he_ remembered, of course, was desperately trying to recover from an uncharacteristically vulnerable moment. 

“Sure,” she agreed with a small laugh.

“ _Anyway_ … we prayed, if you remember, that we’d achieve our ambitions. Or hope, in your case.” 

“Isn’t that what we’re doing now?”

“We’re working toward mine, yeah,” he agreed, “but… what about yours? You still haven’t shared what it is.” 

She stared at him in silence for a few seconds. “I… don’t think I’m ready to share mine yet.” 

“All this time, and you still don’t trust me? I’m wounded.” 

She scoffed at him, and he laughed. She continued with a sigh and a small shake of her head. “It’s difficult to put words to. But… I think we _are_ working toward it. I hope we are, anyway. It’s hard to tell right now.” 

“As long as we’re headed in the right direction.” He sat up, taking a look down at the bridge around them. There were two guards nearby, but their backs were turned to them. Claude debated for a second before laying flat again, and then rolling toward her. 

Byleth’s eyebrows shot up for a moment. 

“They won’t see,” he told her as his free hand snaked across to tangle in her hair. Her tongue peeked out to wet her bottom lip just before he leaned in and claimed them. 

What air was in her lungs escaped her in a sigh, her own free hand stretching across to gently grab at his waist. _This_ , truly, was bliss: her warmth so near, the scent of her heavy in the air, the slow decadence of their lips and their tongues locked in a reverent dance that only they could perform. 

They continued for a few uncaring minutes, the world around them forgotten. Finally, they broke, noses still almost touching. Her jade green eyes seemed to take up his whole vision. 

“I’ll be as quick as I can, I promise.”

She sighed again. “Do what you need to. I’ll survive a few weeks without you.” 

Their fingers were still laced together between them. Claude sat up, gave her hand in his a squeeze, and then took it back before stretching, both of his hands overhead and back arched. 

“I’m going to try to get some sleep.” 

“Not a bad idea,” Byleth agreed. “I’ll go soon, too, just… not yet.” 

He nodded and stood. “Goodnight, By. I’ll see you soon.” 

“I hope so.” 

He gave her one last smile before heading for the trapdoor and ladder back down to the officer’s rooms. 

His sleep was poor, disjointed by nightmares and memories of the smell of the field in the aftermath of their battle. He gave up after only a few hours, carefully packing his bags before going to see if Sothe would be okay to head out a little early. 

When he emerged from his room, he was surprised to see the door to Byleth’s room, across the hall, was still open. He stepped quietly toward the doorway, pulling his sword from his belt on instinct. 

The room was undisturbed. Her bag was still where she’d dropped it before, her empty dirty tea mug still on the desk. Even her bed was still perfectly made. 

Claude frowned to himself, and headed toward the ladder to the roof again. He pushed the trapdoor at the top of the ladder very carefully, peering out into the dark before climbing the rest of the way up. He was careful to put the trapdoor down as quietly as he could. 

Byleth was still where he’d left her, her hands resting lazily across her stomach. He took a few hesitant steps toward her, but stopped when he heard her give a tiny snore. _Just sleeping. Good. Would be better if she’d gone to bed, though._

He sighed, but he couldn’t help but smile, too. He looked over his shoulder toward the trapdoor, then walked over and climbed down once more. He went back to her room, pulling a blanket off the bed, and then he retraced his steps. 

He squatted next to her as he gathered the blanket up properly. He was careful when he placed it over her not to wake her, the upper edge just brushing the wings of her collarbones, the bottom edge covering her feet. She stirred a little, and he waited again for her to settle. 

Her head tipped from one side to the other, sending her hair cascading over her face. Claude brushed it back with a gentle hand and then stood again. 

_I don’t want to go and leave you behind._ He lingered for another few seconds before turning around to resume his trip back down the ladder and to the aviary. _One day, we can be free in this. We won’t have to keep secrets._

 _I hope that day comes soon._

  
  
  


* * *

“Hey, ki - er, Master Claude.”

Claude turned around and closed the door behind himself, making sure it was locked. “Relax, Father. Just me this time.” 

“Glad to see you in one piece.” Nader didn’t move, allowing Claude to cross the study to meet him. “I just got the letter from your mother. Sounds like it was a rough time.” 

Claude heaved a sigh. “That’s putting it nicely. I haven’t seen fires like that since… ever, actually.” 

“Too many to leave for the birds?” 

“We left the Empire bodies. Burned the Kingdom and our own. There were a _lot_ of old classmates there.” Claude sat down in a chair opposite his father, leaning forward to clasp his hands together and rest his elbows on his knees. “I… need to ask a favour.” 

“Sounds serious.” 

Claude opened his mouth to speak again, but Nader held up a hand for him to stop. He poured a second cup of tea and pushed it across the low table toward Claude before putting his hand back down. 

“Thanks,” Claude murmured, reaching forward to grab it. The smell of the pine needles hit him instantly, and he couldn’t help but draw in a deep breath of the steam. He wished Byleth were here to share it with him. He took a small sip before continuing. “Our next major obstacle is taking on Fort Merceus - the single most defensible fortress in the Empire. We need more strength. I’m here for another conference with the lords.”

“How long will you be here?” 

“I’ll probably leave the day after conference is done, so only a few days, a week at most. All of my best strategy materials and references for this one are at the monastery. I want to get back as soon as I can.” Claude paused to take another sip of his tea. His father liked it stronger, so it was more bitter, harder to distinguish the layers of flavour. He wished again that Byleth were with him. 

Nader was frowning at him. “So what’s this favour?”

“Actually, I need two, now that I think about it. One, I need research done into the time House Ordelia spent after they got roped into that coup in the Empire. One of my friends has reason to believe that the Empire has allied themselves with some pretty dark people that were involved in the Imperial occupation of the House in the aftermath.” 

“Dark how?”

“Sorcerors performing blood experiments. On children.” 

“What the fuck?” Some colour seemed to drain from Nader’s face. 

Claude nodded. “I know. The more we can find on them, the better. I know a few names of people I expect to be directly tied to them, I’ll give them to you so you can spot any that look similar.

“As for the second thing…” Claude heaved another sigh, putting his mug back down on the table in front of him carefully. He sat up a little straighter and looked his father in the eye. “Fort Merceus is going to be a slaughterhouse, no matter how well I can strategize it. It’s not built to be forgiving to an attacking force. After that, we’ll need to push directly into Enbarr. I expect that this time, the lords will give me everything they can possibly spare, because we’ll be so far from the border. But what they can give me is only enough to take Fort Merceus, at best.” 

It was Nader’s turn to sigh. He drained his cup and began to pour another from the pot before speaking. “You think it’s time?”

Claude nodded. “I do. If we can do this, then my plan to bust open Fódlan’s Throat will be that much easier.” 

“I see.” Nader was nodding slowly. “I would strongly suggest you have a word with that General, then - Goneril, is it? No doubt he’s wondering why he’s seeing the largest Almyran force in twenty odd years amassing on the other side of the fort.” 

Claude’s face stretched uncomfortably. He hadn’t smiled since… either before Gronder, or stargazing with Byleth after. “Thank you.” 

“I started sending orders after you and your lady left last moon,” Nader told him. “Seemed like it would be coming. We’re going to have lots of people on foot and horseback, too, not just fliers. We may not make it in time for this Fort, but we _will_ be with you for the capital, and whatever comes after.” 

Claude stood gingerly; he’d ridden Sothe harder than he probably should have, and he was feeling more than a little saddle sore today. 

Nader stood, as well, walking with Claude back toward the door. “Get some rest. I’ll come get you for dinner.” 

Claude nodded. He was… nervous, suddenly. Bringing their forces across the border to help the war effort was a perfect chance to smash the cultural boundaries that were currently in place, but what would happen if they didn’t? What if it just cemented the old prejudices, instead? Would their armies turn on each other? Would their whole effort collapse?

“This _will_ work. It _has_ to.” 

“You worry too much, Khalid.” His father put his hand on his shoulder. “Our men are itching for a good fight, and they’re ready to do it for _you_. Don’t forget that. Now give your old man a hug. Seriously, do I have to ask you every time?” 

Claude smiled, his anxiety soothed for the moment, and returned his father’s embrace. 

  
  


* * *

  
  


Claude didn’t stand right away, letting the others at the table collect themselves. Today, he’d wait until the room was empty to leave. 

Today had been productive. Ordelia was happy with freedom, giving them basically their entire force save for a smattering of town guards. Edmund had already begun sending more merchants through to Garreg Mach, and was ensuring some others would be able to resupply their forces before moving into the Empire again. Holst had offered a little more reinforcement for the border, but had already given as much as he could spare. 

Gloucester had genuinely surprised him. The man had taken the few weeks since the last round table to recruit and train new soldiers, who would be on their way to Garreg Mach as they spoke. Based on the numbers alone, his recruitment effort had been _very_ successful. There was one more group in training; when they were done, they’d be sent to the monastery, as well, with the intention of protecting those in the villages surrounding it. 

Margrave Edmund held the door for Count Ordelia, leaving Claude alone with Holst.

“Oh, Duke Goneril? Before you go…” 

Holst, who had just stood up, turned to look at him. His expression was blank, schooled. “You need me?”

“I was hoping we could have a word. Maybe over dinner?” 

“Sure.” Holst reached up with a free hand to push his hair back out of his face. “Just as well. I need to talk to you, too. See you in a bit.” 

Claude stood, then, quickly collecting himself and heading toward the back door of the room. One of his guards opened it for him, saluting him as he passed through with murmured thanks. 

“Good work, Master Claude,” Nader told him with a bow on the other side. His father, afraid of being recognized, never attended the tables with him, but would listen from the other side of the doors. 

“Thank you.” 

“Count Gloucester seems to have really turned around.” 

“I’m sure we can still thank Byleth for that.” They turned the corner toward Claude’s room. 

“We’ve drawn your bath, as requested. The kitchen staff will inform me half an hour before dinner is to be served, so take your time. I will come and fetch you in time to be ready. May I take a moment of your time before you do, though, Master Claude? I’d like to update you on one of the projects assigned to me.” 

Claude frowned a little, but nodded. “Of course.” 

They walked the rest of the way to Claude’s room in silence. He pulled his key out, quickly unlocking the door and waving his father in first. He locked and bolted it behind himself as he followed him in. 

“Have a seat,” Claude told him. Nader immediately claimed the couch, so Claude took the large wing-backed armchair near the hearth. 

A pot of tea was already sitting on the low table between them. Claude reached for it first, pouring a cup and pushing it across toward his father. 

“Thanks, kiddo.” The stiffness and formality in Nader’s tone was gone. “We just got some fresh leaves in. I forgot how good it was fresh.” 

Claude poured himself a cup and took a sip, nodding, his eyes sliding closed contentedly. He held his cup in both hands, high and close to his chest. He could relax. He’d done well today. He wondered, as he took another deep breath of the earthy scent of the pine needle tea, what Byleth was doing. 

“You still with me?”

Claude’s eyes snapped open. “Hm?”

“I said I need to talk to you about those mages.” 

“Oh, sorry.” He took another sip and then put his tea down on the table. “Did you find something?”

“I haven’t found much of anything substantial,” Nader told him. “All I’ve been able to find are fables.” 

“What kinds of fables?” 

“Stories of people living underground, shunning the light of day, using tools and technology that seem impossible to exist. A common theme among these tales include a hatred for those who dwell in the light of the sun and worship Seiros and the Goddess.” Nader paused to take a drink. 

“That sounds oddly familiar,” Claude murmured in the silence. 

Nader nodded. “Wish we had our library from back home. I _swear_ we have something about a group who sound like that.” 

Claude leaned forward, his mind spinning as he tried to pull the Seiros lore together to make some connection. He was _sure_ … 

He stood abruptly, heading to his bookshelf and pulling out _The Book of Seiros_. He opened it and flipped feverishly through its pages, looking for a specific passage. Finally, he found it, tapping the page with a hand aggressively as he read it aloud to his father. 

> _“By the grace of the goddess's divine protection, humanity thrived. Through her blessings, they grew prosperous and their numbers rose. Before long they became the most powerful creatures in all of Fódlan._
> 
> _All was well until darkness descended from the north… a darkness that devoured the earth, desecrated the heavens, and threw the world and its inhabitants into a state of chaos._
> 
> _To face this evil force, the goddess created a new well of power. She gifted certain chosen individuals with sacred blood, allowing them to wield mystical weapons, that they may prevail against the darkness. These souls, buoyed by their divine gifts, conquered the evil ones and drove them back to the north. They came to be known as Heroes…_
> 
> _The descendants of the Heroes sought their ancestor's power, and thusly_ _their blood. In time, they amassed Crests, Relics, land, and wealth,_ _using all to set the land aflame with war. The goddess's power, intended_ _to stem the flow of evil, became a tool of destruction, all because of the_ _greed of humanity. The goddess grieved and, heartbroken, hid herself_ _in the heavens from whence she came…”_

“Khalid, slow down,” Nader urged him. “What are you talking about?” 

“It’s right there in the fucking _scripture_. A force of darkness… I wonder…” Claude kept flipping, breezing past a double-page copy of a painting he’d seen before once at the monastery. Something caught his attention, and he flipped back to stare at it. 

It was an unassuming piece, painted from the perspective of a soldier behind the front line at the battle at the Tailtean Plains, where Seiros was said to have defeated Nemesis. 

The background was painted in fiery reds and smoky blacks, lending an ethereal quality to the piece. In the foreground were a number of indistinct shapes resembling soldiers’ helmets and spears as they lined up, ready to face their opponents. 

In the middle ground stood six distinct individuals, all but one with their backs to the painter. Seiros stood out amongst her peers, her long tea green hair blowing in the wind. 

To her right stood two of the Four Saints: Macuil, a familiar sword lifted skyward, and to his right, Indech, his large bow drawn, waiting to loose his arrow upon his enemy. 

Directly to Seiros’ left stood a man who must have been Emperor Wilhelm I. He was the only one facing the painter, his expression impassioned, with a large shield held across his chest bearing the Crest of Seiros. To _his_ left stood Saint Cichol with his signature lance, his free hand on the shoulder of his daughter, Saint Cethleann. 

Claude had never realized it before, but something about this painting struck him as odd. Something he’d never thought of before. 

Seiros, and all of the other saints, had green hair of some shade or another. Seiros’ was tea green, close to Byleth’s… or Rhea’s. Cichol’s hair was a dark grass green, and Cethleann’s was almost lime. Both _also_ familiar. 

He placed a finger on the page and closed the tome. The cover was a simple black leather with the title embossed in gold. When he opened to the first page, he found the second painting he was looking for. 

The piece was painted in soft colours and shapes. It was round, framed by a bronze coloured ring of little circles that showed the different Crests. He took those in first, cataloguing the ones he recognized and the ones he didn’t, picking out his own. 

Within the frame, a bright star cast light over a feather-winged woman with soft green hair he could only assume was Sothis, though she was considerably older than Byleth had ever described her. She looked down upon the Immaculate one, who was surrounded by four other dragons, and a woman beneath those: Seiros. The sky behind Sothis was bright, the star above her shining. Behind the Immaculate One, however, it was dark and stormy looking. Behind Seiros was no sky at all, but rather what looked to be an army and a mountain range, curving to follow the shape of the ringed border. 

Something in the shape of the painting struck him as strange and familiar. As he started to follow the lines of Sothis’ wings and scarf, along to the Immaculate One’s wings and the other dragons flanking it, he realized why. 

“Fuck me,” he whispered to himself in awe. He raised a finger to the page and traced the Crest of Flames hidden within the image, desperately trying to puzzle out what it could possibly mean. 

“ _K_ _halid._ ”

He’d altogether forgotten that he’d left his father sitting on the couch. Claude snapped the cover of the time shut, pulled his finger from where it was trapped between the pages, and looked up at Nader. 

“Sorry. Something else caught my eye. What were we talking about?” 

“The mages who-”

“-allied themselves with the Empire. Right. Sorry.” 

“I think I’ve given you enough, kiddo. Go take your bath and _relax_. You’re a scattered mess. That conference really took it out of you.” 

“No, I’m fine, I just - I think I just stumbled across something really substantial about the Church and the Saints.”

“Uh-huh. I’ll leave you to your brainstorming, then. I’ll be even _less_ help with that.” Nader finished his tea and put the cup down on the table. “Seriously, kid, think it over in the bath if you have to think it over now. Don’t make your house staff work for nothing.” 

“Alright, I’m going.” 

“Single lock only - I need to be able to come get you for dinner.” 

“I got it.” Claude put the book down on the table and grabbed his tea again. “Thanks for looking into that for me.” 

“I’m sorry it hasn’t turned up more.” His father unlocked the door and opened it, then turned toward him with square shoulders and bowed. “I will return in time to fetch you for dinner, Master Claude.” 

“Thank you,” Claude answered him, then watched as he left the room, closing the door behind himself. Claude crossed the room to lock the door. 

He wandered back over to the table in his study nook in a daze. He finished his cup of tea, pouring a fresh one, before he began undressing for his bath. He tossed his clothes across his bed carelessly and, once he was ready, grabbed his teacup again and walked into his bathroom. 

His bathroom was almost exactly the same as the one in the master guest room, save for the massive Riegan Crest inlaid in gold in the stone on the wall above the fire. 

Claude wasted no time stepping into his bath. It was comfortably warm. He sat, putting his tea on the stone nearby but out of the way, then put his elbows up to his sides, resting them on the stone and letting his hands hang lazily to dip into the water. 

_How did I miss so much of that for so long?_ He wanted to kick himself for not seeing it sooner. _So much to unpack. Byleth thought that the Wind Caller_ was _Macuil. I thought she must have been crazy, but… Rhea looks an awful lot like Seiros. Like standing in the mirror. And Cichol and Cethleann… it was like looking at the back of Seteth and Flayn’s heads._

He sighed and let his arms fall back into the water so that he could reach his tea, taking a sip. He put the cup down carefully on the stone. Then, he took a deep breath and dove under the water, sliding off his seat to kneel in the deepest part. 

He shook his head, then reached up and mussed at his hair with both hands, working his fingertips into his scalp for about thirty seconds before surfacing again with a gasp. He tipped his head back until only his face was above the water again, letting his hair settle back off of his face, before pitching forward once more and sitting on the ledge. He pushed the water from his hair and then rubbed his eyes dry. 

_Why do all of the Saints have green hair? That seems like an odd coincidence, especially since green hair is really rare. Byleth’s hair wasn’t even green until she absorbed Sothis. Does that make her a Saint? Or one of whatever the Saints were?_

_As for Seteth and Flayn… they have Cichol and Cethleann’s Crests, too. Major. No one has Major Crests these days. Not even Byleth’s Crest is Major. So, then… are Seteth and Flayn directly descended from Cichol and Cethleann? Or… are they even siblings?_ Are _they Cichol and Cethleann? It would explain Seteth’s behaviour more readily if they were. If that’s the case, then… maybe it_ was _Macuil._

_The Church always said that Nemesis was the only one to hold the Crest of Flames. But that other piece shows it in the shape of the Goddess. Does it mean that the Goddess bestowed it on Nemesis? She must have bestowed it on Byleth, too. But Nemesis was Seiros’ greatest enemy. How could that be?_

_I’m still missing something here. Something doesn’t add up, but I can’t figure it out._ Claude sighed and grabbed his tea again, holding it close to his chin so that the cup wouldn’t touch the water. He made the effort to focus on his tea as he soaked, trying to put the details out of his mind for the time being. There were more important things to be spending this kind of energy on right now. 

He soaked for another half an hour or so before finally stepping out of his bath, sliding the cover off the drainage grate to let the water out. He considered saving some to pour on the fire, but decided against it. He did go and stand by the fire to let his skin dry before returning to his bedroom to get dressed again. 

He was sitting in his armchair in his study nook with a copy of _The History of Fódlan_ in his lap when his father returned. 

“We are half an hour from dinner service in the entertaining room, Master Claude,” his father announced as he entered, leaving the door ajar. 

“Thank you.” Claude thought about marking his page, but decided against it as he closed the tome and replaced it on his shelf. He wasn’t finding what he wanted there, either. “I’ll head out there now.”

“I do have a question for you, also.” 

Claude raised a brow at him.

“When will you be leaving to return to the monastery?” 

“First thing in the morning.” 

“As you say, Master Claude. The house will be prepared for your departure.” 

Claude nodded and swept past him out the door, waiting for him to follow so that he could lock the door. 

“Master Claude, before you go to dinner, I’d like you to meet someone.” 

Claude frowned, but he nodded, gesturing for his father to lead the way. Claude followed the short distance to his father’s private study. 

His father unlocked the door and gestured him inside. He stopped short just inside the door, however, when he spotted an unexpected but familiar face. 

Neither Claude nor the other man moved until the door closed and locked again. Instantly, the man waiting for them bowed deeply. 

“Prince Khalid. It is good to see you well.” 

“Ajmal. It’s been too long.” 

Ajmal stood tall again. He was his father’s retainer, and a good one, at that. The Almyran royal household couldn’t function without him, Claude was sure. He was beginning to show his age, though, with dustings of white all through his dark hair and beard and creases in his skin. His eyes, a warm cinnamon brown, were just as sharp as Claude always remembered them to be. 

“I’m heading out tonight,” Nader interjected. “I can probably get across with a few cavalry and fliers, and make it in time with a vanguard to help you take Fort Merceus if I do. Ajmal will take over here for us.” 

“You’ll get there before even Holst if you leave now. His soldiers aren’t going to take you trying to cross lightly, not without his word. They may not even _with_ his word.” 

“That’s why it’s all the more important to have a good talk with him at dinner tonight.” Nader clapped Claude on the shoulder. “I’ve already briefed Ajmal on household matters here, and his duties to your mother’s territories. He’ll be in contact if he needs anything.” 

“Right. Thank you, Ajmal.” 

“It is both my duty and my honour, Prince Khalid.”

“Ajmal.” 

“Yes - I’m sorry, Your Majesty. I must remember. Duke Riegan.” 

“There we go.” Nader nodded back toward the door at Claude. “That’s all I needed. You can go have your fancy dinner now. Make sure you talk to that Goneril boy.” 

“I will, he’s expecting me. I’ll see you soon, Father.” 

His father let him out, and he then wound his way back to the main hall, cutting through the round table room to reach the public wings of the estates. 

The public wings held a number of smaller offices for business meetings, more house staff bedrooms, a ‘private’ bedroom for Claude himself, the estate’s public library, and the entertaining hall, which is where their post-conference dinners always took place. 

It was a comfortable room. The floor was bare stone, with a large hearth behind the head of the table. Doors to the kitchens flanked the hearth. The walls were covered in massive tapestries. Above the hearth was a tapestry with the Leicester Alliance coat of arms. On the wall to the left was a tapestry of the Derdriu coast, stretching from one end to the other. On the wall to the right was a tapestry of a golden field backed by a massive mountain range. He recognized it as Daphnel territory. The final wall, which housed the doors leading into the hall, simply had House Riegan banners on either side of the door. 

Claude was the first one in. He took his seat at the head of the table, and settled in to wait. 

Almost instantly, one of his regular kitchen staff was at his side, filling him a water goblet and handing him a dark wine. He thanked her, then waited until she was gone back to the kitchen to smell his drinks. He knew he _should_ be safe here, but he always still felt the need to check. Just in case. 

The others began filing in shortly after Claude, this time bringing their wives or house staff along. The table was large enough to seat thirty-two, so it made no difference to him if they did. 

These dinners were something that his grandfather had started doing, to help boost cohesion among the lords. It was intended as a place they could talk of matters that didn’t require votes, such as merchant routes or arranging marriages. Claude was more than happy to uphold the tradition. Thankfully, due to the nature of these dinners, he wasn’t expected to entertain, and so could usually get away with little more than polite conversation with whoever sat nearby. 

Gloucester, blessedly, never did. Tonight, he set himself up half a dozen seats down on Claude’s right, across from Margrave Edmund. Count Ordelia and his wife sat nearby, close enough to join them if he needed. 

Holst came in and immediately sat in the first seat to Claude’s left. 

Neither Claude nor Holst said anything more than polite greetings until all the food was on the table, and everyone began to eat. 

Claude didn’t start eating right away. He let the others take their picks of the plates first, and then one of the kitchen staff took his plate for him to collect what he wanted, since the serving platters were too far away. Even when she set it down in front of him, he waited a couple of minutes. 

“What the hell is Gloucester waiting for?” Holst asked between swallowing a bite of food and taking a large drink from his mug of ale. 

“He never starts eating until I do,” Claude answered easily. “He’s not above poisoning a rival, I guess, so he expects I won’t be either. Sometimes I wait just to make him sweat.” 

Holst laughed at that. Continued to eat. Claude finally decided he was done waiting around and began to eat his food, too. 

“Listen, Claude, I have a problem.” 

Claude nodded at Holst. Drank some water. Kept his voice low. “Let me guess: there’s a massive force of Almyran soldiers at the Locket. Probably larger than you’ve seen in about twenty years.” 

Holst nodded. “They’re not doing anything though. Just gathering and waiting. They’re too far out for us to reach with a warning volley, and I don’t have the strength to meet them with a vanguard in case it turns bloody.” 

Claude carefully took a couple bites of his food before answering. “Holst, I need you to do me a favour and go straight from here to the Locket.”

Holst took another drink. “You expect me to let them through?” 

“We need their strength, too, if we want to win this thing. You and I both know that the Alliance forces aren’t enough, and the Church was too fractured.” 

“And how do I know this isn’t an expansion effort? A plot to gain ground and raze us while we’re weak?”

Claude simply looked at him until he looked away. 

“Right. _I’ll_ trust you, but I don’t like it. My men will need something more.” 

“Have you ever met the King of Almyra?”

“That’s Nader, isn’t it? Nader the Undefeated?”

Claude nodded. 

Holst took a bite of his food. “Yeah. Once. It was… shit, you’re right. About twenty years ago, maybe a little longer. I was called home from the Academy to help when we got caught up in a siege. Father needed help, and wanted to see how I’d grown. He handed me Freikugel and sent me in to break it.”

 _Not unlike what happened with Hilda_ , Claude thought to himself. “Hilda’s doing well with it, by the way. It’s saved her ass on a number of occasions.”

“Good,” Holst answered him. He sounded very relieved. He took a long pull from his mug again. “Anyway… I went out to see what was going on, and it was nothing like anything I’d seen before. Just a bunch of angry Almyrans, trying to provoke us into a fight. It was less of a siege, and more of a taunting that we weren’t falling for but couldn’t ignore. Well, I was itching to give Freikugel a go, so I gave them what they wanted. I remember partway through, this draconic scream sounded almost right on top of me. All of the Almyran soldiers started backing off, and we froze, trying to see what was happening. Nader landed right in front of me and hopped off that wyvern…I was sure I was done for.

“He walked up - sword in hand - and I’ll never forget it. ‘ _Good job, kid,’_ he told me. Said he was here to get his soldiers in line. They were defects, angry at recent orders to stop pushing at the border. He was there to corral their asses back home so he could see them disciplined accordingly.”

Huh. No doubt this would’ve been shortly after Claude was born. His father had really turned around after falling in love with his mother, after all. 

Holst paused to take a few bites of his food. “Well, then he became more like what I’d heard. Said he was bored and itching for a fight, offered me a deal. Me against him, one on one. If he won, he’d take his soldiers home and see them disciplined as he saw fit. If I won, he’d let me decide how he dealt with them. No matter the outcome, the fight was over. Now, I knew I was at a disadvantage in lots of different ways, but I was also young and reckless with a Hero’s Relic in my hands, so I agreed.”

“What happened?” 

“Well, his name isn’t Nader the Fucking Pushover, is it?” Claude and Holst shared a laugh at that. “I didn’t last ten seconds. Man was a _monster_. But he gave me pointers before he took his army and left. They still save my ass to this day. Almost wish I could thank him for it.” 

Claude drained his water, then reached for his wine. “Well, I hope you’ll still recognize him when you see him. He’ll have a written missive from me to give you. Share a drink with him first, if you want. He won’t refuse.” 

Holst froze mid-bite, then lowered his fork back to his plate with a frown on his face. “Who the fuck are you, man? Just casually dropping the _King of fucking Almyra_ on me like that?” 

“Holst. Look at me.” Claude was wearing his king’s regalia, even. He threw his hands up and out over his plate as if to ask if he really needed to say it. 

“Huh. Had a feeling, especially after that last conference, but… wow.” Holst picked his fork back up, shaking his head slowly. “You know, our father’s getting antsy. Hilda still doesn’t have any suitors...”

Claude laughed loudly at that. “She’ll find some. I don’t think my vision of the future quite lines up with hers, after all.” 

“Or maybe your heart’s already set on another, huh? She seems to think it has been for a while.” 

Claude took another drink to hide his chagrined smile. “Yeah. Maybe it is.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really like to think that Byleth's openness and honestly would start to lend itself to Claude in a way, where he starts getting a little looser about some things with certain people because he starts to subconsciously realize that he has friends and people who love him aside from his parents? Wishful thinking probably. 
> 
> I also realized recently from going through events that Claude would have likely introduced Holst and Nader to each other personally during the time split. Or at least before the Bridge of Myrddin battle. But I had already written way too far past that point when I realized it. A *good* writer would fix it. I am apparently not a good writer lol.


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Minor violence and sexual assault warning for section 3  
> Suggestive themes

Claude’s trip home from Derdriu was uneventful. Naturally, the first thing he did after stabling Sothe was go looking for Byleth. 

He’d landed at the beginning of lunch service, so he went straight from the aviary to the meal hall. Sure enough, she was having lunch with Ashe, Petra, and Hilda. 

He grabbed a tray of food before joining them. Petra was directly across from her, where he would normally sit, so he took the empty seat to Byleth’s left, instead. 

“Oh, hello, Claude,” Petra said with a bright smile as she noticed him. 

Byleth’s head whipped around to find him, smiling herself when their eyes locked. “You’re back!”

“Just landed,” he told her as he put his tray down. He smiled back as he dropped his bag on the floor and settled into his seat. “How’s everyone?” 

“ _Busy_ ,” Hilda pouted, making them all laugh kindly. 

He paid strict attention to his food until he was about halfway done. By then, their conversations had gone back to mostly normal, though Byleth was still quiet. 

“I should bring you up to speed when you have the time,” she finally said to him. He looked up at her from the corner of his eye. He realized, rather abruptly, that it was almost halfway through Harpstring Moon already - her birthday was coming up. 

_Think about that later, Claude._ “I should do the same. What are you up to this afternoon?”

“I really need to hit the bath house, but otherwise I’m free.” 

“Me too, actually.” That wasn’t a bad idea, especially since he’d been flying for four days. “I was going to go to the baths right after lunch, and I can meet you in the office after? Whenever you’re free.” 

“Sure,” she agreed. She grabbed her empty tray and smiled warmly at him. “It’s good to have you back.” 

“It’s good to _be_ back.” He smiled after her as he watched her go. He’d see her soon enough, anyway. 

Hilda cleared her throat. “Are you ready to pay attention to the rest of us now?” 

“What, are you jealous?” 

“No, you dolt, I’m not. I’m annoyed. We’re trying to talk to you.” 

A number of laughs sounded around him. Claude hadn’t even realized that Ignatz and Leonie had joined them. 

“So what needs my attention, then?” 

“Well, we were just wondering what we’re going to do for the Professor’s birthday,” Leonie answered him. 

“When is it?” Ashe asked. 

“The 25th,” Claude answered as he stuffed another bite of food into his mouth. “What do you guys think about taking her adorable little Golden Deer for a night on the town?” 

Hilda instantly lit up. “Ooh, I think that’s a _great_ idea! We could really use the downtime.” 

“I must be confessing that I am becoming bored by the drinks in this place. A new place to be discovering drinks will be welcome.” 

“If we wanted, I can have a talk with the owner of the White Dragon in town,” Ashe offered. “So that we can make sure there’s room for us. We just need to know how many of us will go if I do.” 

“I’ll take care of that,” Leonie told them. “I’ll have it to you by tomorrow night.” 

“Sounds like a plan.” Claude drained his mug in one long pull, almost slamming it down on his lunch tray when he was done. “Do you guys need me for anything else? I really need to unpack from my trip and hit the bath house.” 

“I don’t think so,” Ignatz answered him, looking around the table at the others, who shook their heads. 

“Great. I’ll see you all later, then.” He stood and shouldered his bag again, quickly making his way back up toward his room. 

He left his bag on the floor, taking only what he would need and heading immediately to the bath house. He wasted no time in soaking today, going through the motions with practiced efficiency. A quick trip back to his room to drop off his laundry later, and he was on his way to Jeralt’s old office. 

“Welcome back, Claude,” Seteth said as Claude rounded the corner at the top of the stairs. He appeared to just be leaving his own office for the time being. 

“Hey, Seteth. Anything I should know?” 

“I assume you are here to see Lady Byleth. She has all the same information as I do, so I will allow her to pass it along.” His hand came up absently to rustle his hair over one of his ears. For the briefest moment, Claude thought he could see a sharply pointed tip peek out between the strands. “Did you happen to see Flayn on your way here?” 

Claude blinked a few times to clear his senses. “No, but I wasn’t exactly looking for her. She’s not missing again, is she?”

“She is safe, to my knowledge. I simply wished to speak with her. It is no matter. I will find her. If you’ll excuse me.” 

Claude stepped aside to give Seteth room to move past him. _That was absolutely him in that painting. No question. And what was that with his ear?_

He shook his head as he continued the short distance to the office. The door was closed. He turned the handle, and found it unlocked. He let himself in, carefully closing the door behind himself. 

“I was wondering how long you were going to leave me waiting.” 

Claude smiled as he then slid the lock into place. She was stepping around the desk when he turned around, and he crossed the room quickly to sweep her up. 

She let out a little delighted shriek into his shoulder, reaching on instinct to hold on to him as he lifted her off the ground and spun her around, just once, before placing her back down on her feet carefully. Her hands were still on his back, and she dug her fingers in, dragging him down so that she could kiss him feverishly. 

He smiled against her. Any thoughts of work were scattered, long gone from the forefront of his mind. 

She broke away from him to gasp for air, finally, after a few minutes. 

“Byleth - _mm -_ hold on a second.” 

She pulled away again and looked at him with wide, apologetic eyes. 

“Who has a key to this room?”

“There are only two of them,” she told him, “and they’re both locked in.” 

“Good,” he almost growled at her. He could feel the little tremor in her spine. “I wanted to talk to you about some things, but it’s going to have to wait.” 

He quickly took in the room around them. There wasn’t much here, but leaving and heading back to one of their rooms would draw suspicion. The couch was an option, but it wasn’t very deep. The desk was a little too tall. 

He seemed to make the same realization as Byleth at the same time. 

“Chair. Now,” she demanded, pointing to the one behind the desk. It was made large and wide enough to fit an armoured man, after all. It _should_ , in theory, comfortably fit them both. 

“In a minute,” he answered her with a grin. “You interrupted me. I wasn’t finished.” 

“Oh? And what are you going to do about it?” 

He grabbed her waist more tightly, pulling her as close as he could. “Wouldn’t you like to know?” 

She let out a shuddering sigh and melted against him when he kissed her once more. 

  
  


* * *

  
  
  


Claude chuckled when she snored against his neck, her breath tickling him. 

They were still tangled together in the chair in Jeralt’s office, their clothes discarded carelessly across the desk and around his feet. Her hair still mostly smelled clean, but the air around them was heavy with the scent of sweat and devotion. 

His elbow rested on the arm rest, his hand absently stroking her hair, the other grazing the smooth skin at the small of her back. As she stirred, no doubt woken by his laughter, he wrapped her up tightly with both arms again. 

“Tired?” he teased her. 

She gave a wordless protest and sat back. He gave her some leeway. Her hands rested against his bare chest as she looked at him. Her breathing was steady, but she was still a little flushed, her pink cheeks framed by tousled tea green hair. Her eyes, however, were heavy. There were dark circles underneath them. 

“I haven’t slept very well since Gronder,” she admitted. 

“I know what you mean.” He swore he didn’t remember Bernadetta ever getting a shot off on them, but his nightmare of watching Sothe’s back erupt with the tip of a ballista bolt and the subsequent fall was all too real. 

She sighed and settled back into his shoulder. She was so very warm against him, her skin soft despite the hard muscle beneath. He was frequently surprised by just how deep his affection for her ran, but in this quiet moment with her, it was hard to think of anything else. 

Once, a little more than six years ago, he didn’t know she existed. How had he lived his life without her in it? It was impossible to imagine, now. 

“I missed you,” he heard her murmur. “It’s a lot to take on alone.”

“It is,” he agreed. 

She sighed against him, then sat up again. He stretched up to kiss her gently, and she pushed his hair back off his face for him when they broke apart. “We should get up. With our luck, someone’s going to knock on that door.” 

“Probably.” He took his hands back, and she put her hands on the arm rests of the chair, using them to steady herself as she shifted backward off of him. He was cold where her touch left him. 

Finally, her feet hit the floor, but she still held tightly to the arm rests. Claude could see her legs shaking. 

“You okay?” he asked, and she nodded, laughing. 

“That’s going to be sore tomorrow.” She looked down at her feet, then took one hand back, reaching down and flinging his smallclothes into his lap. 

He laughed with her, and as soon as she stepped away, he followed her lead. They dressed again in silence. He was about to ask her for an update when he saw her walk around behind the desk again and duck down, coming back up with a map tube. 

“I really wish we had one of those desktop frames like your desk has in Derdriu,” she commented as she pulled the top off. He wandered back over to her side as she slid the papers out and unrolled them over the desktop. 

Claude’s jaw dropped as he read the name on the floor plans he was looking at. 

“It was risky, but Manuela called in a favour. Who would have guessed that the Mittelfrank Opera Company functioned as an intelligence arm for House Aegir?”

“Not me,” Claude answered her honestly. “I’m surprised they were willing to cooperate after losing Ferdinand.” 

“I’m not, actually. I… I remember, right after Edelgard declared war, I found him by the stables. She’d completely stripped his house of all of its assets and lands.” She heaved a shaky sigh and sniffled. “And now that he’s - sorry.” 

“Me, too.” He snaked an arm across her shoulders as she cried, but she kept it under control. 

“It was just so unnecessary,” she finally managed. “He could have - if he wanted change, he could have joined us.” 

“I know it pains you, By, but he made a choice. A hard choice.” 

“That choice didn’t affect only him.” She sniffled again, then reached up and dried her face. “It doesn’t matter, in the end. I tried, what, five times? He didn’t want to hear it. I did the only thing he left me with. Anyway, it’s - it’s not important. We have a key piece of what we need.”

“This is _huge_ , By.” He went back to looking at them in silence, taking his hand back so he could flip through the different floors more easily. 

“I still don’t know _how_ we’re getting in,” she admitted, “but Hilda suggested disguises.”

“Did she? Hmmm… It needs refinement, but we could make that work.” Pieces began quickly and easily falling into place. A few forged reports, a skirmish to make it convincing… he needed to talk to his mother, and come up with some contingencies, but finally, he could make some proper headway. 

“I haven’t had any luck with the mages Lysithea mentioned. She asked Ashe for me, but even he had nothing concrete except for an old children’s tale he remembered.” 

“Yeah, my - Nardel came up with the same.” 

“How is your father?” 

The look she gave him suggested he didn’t need to bother trying to hide it. He sighed. “Can you stop doing that?”

“Doing what?” 

“Pulling apart all of my personal secrets,” he complained, but he smiled and shook his head. “He’s fine. I asked him to take a look, too. He couldn’t find much else, but he did say that they sound familiar.” 

She nodded, a frown drawing her brows together. “I wish I still had Sothis. Maybe she’d know.”

“I’m not so sure. She lost a lot of her memory, didn’t she? I swear I remember you saying that at some point.”

“Good point.” 

“Actually, speaking of… I noticed something really interesting in _The Book of Seiros_ while I was in Derdriu.” 

“What’s that?”

 _Hmm… where to start?_ “I think you were right about Macuil.” 

“I was just kind of thinking out loud, really.”

“But I think you were actually right. Is there a copy in here?” 

“Probably.” She dragged her fingers across his back as she passed him, wandering to the bookshelf. She scanned for a few seconds before her hand snapped up and pulled a book from the shelf in one sharp, controlled movement, before returning to his side and handing it to him. 

“Thanks.” He flipped through the pages until he found that one double-page spread again. “There, look at this, and tell me that Seiros-” he tapped the back of her head “-doesn’t look like Rhea, and that they-” he tapped Cichol and then Cethleann “-don’t look like Seteth and Flayn. And I mean, really - doesn’t their relationship seem odd? He’s an awfully protective brother.” 

He expected her to look more serious than she did; instead, she got a mischievous look in her eye. “You’re _just_ figuring that out?” 

“What?”

She shook her head slowly at him. “Seteth _is_ Flayn’s father, not her brother. Really, Claude. You’re seriously just noticing?”

“I’ve never had a reason to pay attention to them, really,” he admitted sheepishly. “My mind is usually on about twenty other things at once. I do have to pick my battles sometimes.” 

“Fair enough.”

“How long have you suspected?”

“I don’t suspect; I know for a fact. Do you remember, shortly after Flayn joined our class, she asked us to go with her and Seteth to the Rhodos Coast?”

Claude frowned as he thought back. “Yeah, but the details are a little hazy. Something about the Western Church?”

“That’s right. We were told that the Western Church had a rebellious offshoot from the new bishop’s order that were trying to reclaim holy artefacts from a shrine to…” Her head tipped sideways for a moment. “... To Saint Cichol. He has a… it’s Major.”

“Yeah, I remembered that too. You going to finish your story, though?”

“Right, yes. We were going to recover the holy artefacts before this Western Church faction could. But after the battle, they kind of lingered near the shrine, and I left you guys to go and see if they were alright. Seteth told me then that his wife was buried there, because it was a favourite place of theirs to spend time, and then Flayn started speaking to her mother. They kind of _had_ to confirm it for me after that.” 

“Wait. We got something out of that, too.”

“Yes. The Spear of Assal, which is a sacred weapon with an affinity for Cichol’s Crest, and the Caduceus Staff, which has an affinity for Cethleann’s Crest. They wanted to give them to me, but naturally, I just handed them right back.” 

They fell silent, looking at the artwork. Byleth nodded and continued speaking after a few moments of silence. “Their speech is really outdated, too. I’ve asked Flayn about that before, she doesn’t think she sounds any different than the rest of us, but we all hear it.” 

“The only way this could be possible is if they’re over a thousand years old. Do we believe that’s possible?”

“I’d say so. The evidence is there. And, actually… did you know my father had a Major Crest of Seiros?”

“What?”

Byleth nodded. “Hanneman told me after he died. Incredibly rare. Not even House Hresvelg have had Majors in generations, likely since the third or fourth generation after Wilhelm himself.”

“So how did your father end up with it?” 

“I’m not sure. Rhea told me, when they met, that he was very young, and he took an attack that was meant for her. If she _is_ Seiros, then…”

“She would have the power to bestow it on him, then, like she did Wilhelm.”

“How would having a Crest have saved him?”

“I don’t know. But-” Claude stopped abruptly. His stomach started to turn uncomfortably. “I just had a thought. About his death. I don’t know if you want to hear it, but it may be a matter of life and death moving forward, too.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“Well - okay, so those mages, we’ve technically been dealing with them for quite a while, right? Solon, and Kronya, and Thales. And the Death Knight may or may not be one of them. The knife that Manuela was stabbed with, I remember having a hard time getting her to stop bleeding. There are no poisons that I could think of that would cause a wound to keep bleeding, but I’d heard rumour of metals that would. And you said Kronya used a very similar blade to stab your father.” 

“She did.” 

“One little stab wound shouldn’t have been enough to take down Jeralt the Blade Breaker. I wonder if that blade is specifically made to react with the Crest in someone’s blood. Manuela doesn’t have a Crest, so it was just a nasty stab, but Jeralt _did_. And if his was Major, it would work all the quicker.” 

Colour drained out of Byleth’s face quickly. “Whether that’s a speculation or not, we need to tell the others at our next conference.” 

“I agree.” He put his arm around her waist, drawing her closer into his side. She looked up at him briefly, then down to the book on the desk again. “Here. One more thing.” 

He used his free hand to flip the tome shut, then flip the cover open to the first page. 

“I’m curious to know what you see in the middle of the picture.” 

“I’m guessing it’s something aside from the obvious.” She studied it carefully for at least a full minute before shaking her head. “Not seeing it.” 

He used his free hand again, tracing the shape of her Crest. 

“Oh. I’ve never noticed that before.” 

“It got me thinking,” Claude explained. “It seems obvious now that you got it from the Goddess. But you may remember that I once thought you received it from the King of Liberation himself.” 

“There are no records of Nemesis having any heirs, though.” 

“At the time, that was the only explanation I had. But this lends a different story.” 

“What are you thinking?” 

“There are pieces still missing. I’m not confident I have the right answer yet, but looking at this, I wonder why Sothis would bestow her blessing on Seiros’ sworn enemy.”

Byleth nodded. “I - have a rather overwhelming feeling that he stole it.” 

“How would someone steal it?” 

“No clue,” she admitted. “I don’t even know where that came from. But I’m confident that it was stolen, not gifted.” 

“Which gives Seiros another motivation against him,” Claude mused. “Hey, By?” 

“Yeah?”

“Do you…” _Do I want to know?_ Well, it was too late now. “Do you still feel like you?” 

He expected her to look at him funny, but she just nodded. “I sometimes get a little thing like that, but otherwise it’s all passive. I’m still me. And you’ll be the first to know if that changes. I… don’t want it to.” 

“Me either.” He pressed a kiss into her temple. _I couldn’t bear to lose you again._

They stood in silence for half a minute or so. Byleth looked down at the book on the table, absently flipping through pages and skimming their contents. Finally she closed the book, a heavy yawn clawing up her throat. 

“Take a nap,” he told her gently. “If you’re tired enough, you should take advantage of it while you can. I should look over these floor plans, anyway.” 

She nodded at him and slipped out of his embrace, crossing the room to stand by the couch and remove her regalia. She folded up her cloak carefully, laying it stiff collar-and-shoulders up on the little table in front of it, her sword belts beneath, her diadem balanced in the collar. 

He watched her lay out flat on the couch, then turn over onto her side, using her arm as a pillow. 

Claude unclipped his own cloak and slowly walked over to the couch to lay it over her, making sure the buckles were near her feet. “Want me to find you a pillow?”

“I’m good like this,” she murmured through another yawn. She curled up so that she could fit better underneath it, then grabbed the edge near her face and pulled it up a little, a tiny smile lifting the corner of her lips as she slipped into sleep. 

Claude pushed some hair off her face and then walked back over to the desk. He was careful, as he flipped between the pages of the floor plans, to be as quiet as possible. The idea of disguises would work. He just needed to figure out where best to get them in, and how to write a few convincing Imperial reports. 

His attention wavered, briefly, and he found himself watching Byleth sleep for a minute or two. No, he couldn’t do this. Not right now. It would still be here tomorrow, anyway, and it wouldn’t hurt to gain her insight. 

He carefully, quietly, gathered up the floor plans and rolled them, sliding them back into their tube and placing them under the desk where he thought he’d seen her pull them from. _The Book of Seiros_ was still on the desktop, so he grabbed it and took it back to the bookshelf, and then scanned to see if any others caught his eye. 

He found a book on tactics with an unfamiliar title and carefully pulled it from the shelf, then returned to the desk chair to read. 

He smiled to himself, then sighed contentedly as he sank into the chair and opened the cover of the tome. When was the last time they’d shared such a peaceful afternoon? 

He looked forward to being able to do this more often. 

  
  


* * *

  
  
  


Claude smiled to himself as he knocked Byleth’s door with his free hand.

She answered almost immediately, smiling brightly as she answered the door. 

“Happy birthday.” 

Hilda had taken her into town last weekend to have a dress made. She’d been more excited than he’d expected, and when the package arrived, he’d laughed at the way she bounced in her seat in excitement. 

And, truthfully, it was beautiful. She’d chosen a deep emerald green, the waist tied off with gold-coloured rope, the inner layer a simple grey. The neckline was deep and round, deeper than what she usually wore. About an inch of the top of the valley between her breasts was exposed invitingly. He ached to lean in and steal a taste of her, with so much of her delicious skin exposed, but he remembered his place. 

“What do you think?” she asked, spinning in a circle. The bottom hem lifted and fanned a little as she did. 

“It’s beautiful. How do you feel?” 

She blushed a little and didn’t answer him. 

He smiled at her. “Before we go…”

“Yes?” 

He pulled his other hand from behind his back, handing her the bunch of flowers he’d put together for her. It hadn’t been easy, but he’d been able to get cuttings of her favourites from his garden in Derdriu. 

She stuck her face into them, taking a deep breath and sighing contentedly on the exhale. Her hands closed over his for a moment as she took them from him. 

“They’re lovely. Thank you.” 

She turned away for a moment to put them in a vase in her room, opening up a water skin and pouring some water inside before meeting him at the door again. 

He watched her as she looked him over. He’d gone into town, too - he wanted something different to wear, and if everyone else was splurging… he could afford to, too. 

The pants were a little more snug than he was accustomed to, but not uncomfortable, tucked into carefully polished, well-worn black leather boots. His black satin overcoat was much like his Academy uniform or even his regalia in cut, with a tight collar but deep neck, held closed by three silver buttons at his waist over a simple white tunic. The bottom hem fell to just above the knee. The edges of the coat and tunic, wrapping up around his collar, were trimmed in gold thread. He’d wanted to do silver, but he’d had to compromise with the seamstress, who had wanted to put the Leicester coat of arms somewhere on it after recognizing him. Gold trim was the best he could talk her down to. 

Perhaps the strangest part of this outfit for him was the fact that he wasn’t wearing a sash. He’d worn one every single day since he left the Academy, and he felt a little naked without it. The closest he could get was the belt for his sword, which he was wearing. He wasn’t going to go completely helpless. 

“You look good,” Byleth murmured. 

He blushed a little. “I’m glad you think so.”

Her hands came up as if she wanted to smooth down the front of his coat for him, but she remembered they were in the open in her front door, and opted to awkwardly swing them back down to her sides instead. 

He realized, then, that something about her eyes was different. 

“Is that.. makeup?”

She sighed. “Hilda _insisted._ It’s so annoying, how does she wear this _every day?_ I convinced her to go light on it, but even still...”

“I guess you get used to it after a while. I wouldn’t know, though.” 

“It’s not worth it.”

“Why didn’t you wash it off, then?” 

Byleth blushed, the colour accented by the gentle rouge on her cheeks. “Well, Hilda worked so hard, and - and I thought maybe…”

She didn’t finish her sentence. Claude smiled at her, his voice quiet. “You’re always beautiful. I’d rather you feel comfortable.” 

“I’ll remember that for next time Hilda decides to torture me.” 

Claude laughed. “Well? Shall we?” 

She nodded, and he backed up a step, giving her room to step outside. She locked her door, and then looked down at herself with a huff. 

“Do you have pockets?”

He patted himself down absently. He knew he did, but obviously still felt the need to check. “Need me to hold your keys?”

“If you don’t mind.” 

He held out his hand and she placed her small key ring in his palm. He tucked it away and offered his arm. 

She looped hers with his, gently placing her palm on his forearm. He let them fall against his side, holding her close in the only publicly safe way that he could. 

This felt scandalous, simply walking down the lane way, dressed up and arm looped with hers, a giddy smile on his face. And if the turned heads that followed their progress were any indication, it _was_. 

She looked around them as they descended the stairs near the second dorm building, then looked at him with concern. 

He sighed. He had a feeling that this would happen, but he hoped that once the others started to appear around campus that they would stop. He knew, though, that they wouldn’t. 

And did he want them to? He wanted her to be safe. That, above everything, was what mattered. If they were going to talk, then he would just work all the harder to protect her. 

“Let them. We’ll be fine,” he told her. 

She frowned a little, but she nodded and then looked down at the ground as they walked. 

“Hey.” He waited until she looked up at him again. “No worrying on your birthday.” 

“But, if they-”

“A bunch of us are going out to celebrate. Once they see the others coming out dressed up like we are, any words they say _now_ will lose their weight.” 

She smiled. “I hope you’re right.” 

_Me, too._ He simply smiled back and continued directing them toward the market. 

When they arrived, a small single horse-drawn carriage was waiting for them. Claude watched her as her eyes went wide, then waited for her to look up at him again. 

“Well, we can’t have your hem getting dirty by walking there, can we?” He chuckled kindly as she blushed. He led her to its side, giving a nod to the driver as he let her arm go and offered her a hand, instead. 

She used her left hand to hoist her skirt a little, then placed her right in his as she stepped up into the carriage, sliding along the seat to make room for him to sit at her left side. He followed her up. 

“All settled?” their driver called from the driver’s seat ahead. 

“You all good, By?” Byleth nodded at Claude. “All settled. Thank you.” 

“We’ll be leaving, then.” 

The driver spurred his horse to move, and the wheels groaned a little as they began to spin. They made their way through the gate slowly, then picked up speed once they were on the road out of the monastery. 

“What about the others?” Byleth asked him. 

“There’s a larger carriage coming for them soon.” This carriage was too narrow, only designed for one or two people. He wanted at least a _little_ indulgence for her. Plus, it forced them to sit hip-to-hip. 

He held his right hand, palm up and fingers spread, between them. She looked at it, then at him. 

“We’ll be fine,” he promised her again quietly. 

She smiled as she laced her fingers with his, but then she rearranged her skirt so that their hands were mostly covered. 

The carriage ride was only about fifteen minutes, dropping them off in the village square. Claude paid the driver a few extra gold coins after helping Byleth down, and then took her arm again and led her to the White Dragon about thirty feet down the road. 

Ashe had gone above and beyond for this one. It turned out that the owner owed him for some reason or another, so not only had he managed to get them guaranteed space for their dozen or so, he’d been able to get them a bard and half of the restaurant space to themselves. As such, they’d invited more of their Church staff and some of her mercenaries, as well. 

He let her go again and held the door open, waiting for her to pass and then stepping in behind her. They stepped in as the owner was coming down the stairs from the inn rooms. 

“Good evening! I’m guessing by your dress that you’re here for the birthday event, yes?” 

“We are,” Byleth answered him. 

“You’re a little early, but the space is ready. Come, I’ll show you.” 

They followed him in. It was unusual to hear Byleth walking so quietly. His own boots _clicked_ against the wood floors differently than he was used to, making him hyper-aware of the noise. Thankfully, he wasn't going to be walking much for it to be a cause for distraction. 

He’d been to this place a few times. Already, half of the seats in the unreserved space were taken up by off-duty knights and soldiers unwinding from a day of work. One of them recognized him - one of his mother’s men, he was sure - and immediately stood to demand the group’s attention with a monologue about the importance of unity and toasting their future victories. 

Claude smiled to himself. The man spoke with heart, but he had a feeling that his mother may have sent them in to keep any tongue-waggers distracted and in line. He made a mental note to thank her for it. 

“This space is all for you.” 

The entire pub’s first floor was mostly open, but a spot of the wall on either side jutted into the room to support the second floor. It created just enough of a division to make the other side feel somewhat closed-in. The owner waved at the empty section of the room as he spoke. 

Within, tables and chairs had been pushed together to make group seating for twelve apiece. One corner was left open, a short makeshift stage set up for the bard. In the other was a short bartop with huge stacks of wooden mugs and metal goblets, four kegs and a cask on its surface. Between the two was a small hearth. 

The place was simple, but it was cozy. They were certainly incredibly overdressed for the establishment. But war had forced them into armour and practical clothing so often, that they were all wishing for an excuse to wear something different. 

“Once those are gone, it’s coin up-front for drinks,” the owner told them, gesturing toward the bar. “You’ll have a dedicated barkeep for the night, as well. I’ll send him in shortly.” 

“I’m ‘ere already,” came a voice from behind the bar. 

“Right. I’ll leave you to it, then.” 

“Thank you, sir!” Byleth called after the man as he walked away, and then she drifted toward a chair, at the end of a row of tables closest to the bard and the hearth. He sat opposite to her, facing the back wall. He wished she’d chosen to sit where he was, so he could keep an easier eye on the doors. 

Before he could really say anything to her, the barkeep stepped out from behind the bar, drying his hands on a towel. He was an unassuming man, standard brown hair and pale freckled face, average height but lanky. He’d been working here on a few occasions over the years that Claude had visited this place, both as a student and during the war. 

“Wotcher, yous’ - oi. Sorry,” he mumbled as he realized who he was speaking to. 

Byleth smiled wistfully and sat back in her chair. “When was the last time I was part of a _yous’_?” she mused. 

Claude smiled, too. “I wouldn’t worry too much about your formalities. I think we’ll survive without them.” 

“Right. Gotcha.” The barkeep cleared his throat. “What’s it be, then?” 

“Is the cask red wine?”

“Yessir.”

“One, please.” 

“And just an ale for me,” Byleth added. 

The barkeep nodded. “An’ how’s’bout food, then? Mincemeat an’ roots pie tonight.” 

“Yeah, we should eat,” Byleth admitted with a sigh.

“Two, then,” Claude told the barkeep.

“Proper. Be back in a mo’.” The barkeep disappeared behind the bar, the kegs too tall to see him behind. The sound of liquid pouring started faintly, drowned out seconds later by his voice. “This ain’t top shelf wine, mate, you want some ‘oney for it?” 

Claude blinked rapidly a couple of times in surprise. “Maybe a small dish for the table?” 

“Got it. Jus’ a mo’,” he said again. Claude saw him put the metal wine glass down on the end of the bar, and then the sound of Byleth’s ale pouring started. Twenty seconds later, he was placing cups down in front of the two of them. “Need the kitchen to get me yer ‘oney, mate. Jus’ be a minute.” 

As soon as Claude counted five steps away from them, he grabbed Byleth’s wooden mug. The ale inside looked and smelled normal, but seeing as they were in a public and widely available space, he couldn’t be too sure. 

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small vial full of charcoal. He pulled the cork from the top and tapped a tiny bit out into her mug, first, then into his wine. 

Neither of them reacted, so he heaved a relieved sigh and replaced the stopper, tucking the vial into his pocket and pushing her mug back toward her. 

“Charcoal will counteract just about any poison,” he explained quietly. “The wine is safe, and the cask he just opened should be, too. I’ll get him to let me know when he opens the next one, and we’ll check again.” 

Byleth nodded. “Thank you.” 

He reached for his cup, then, holding it out toward her. “Cheers?”

She picked up her mug, too, but she tipped her head in confusion at him as she touched the mouth of her mug to his cup before putting it to her lips and taking a sip. He took a sip of his wine, too. _Definitely_ not top shelf. He would be using that honey, if the barkeep ever returned. 

Byleth was still looking at him funny when he put his cup down. 

“What?”

“You sounded so hesitant.” 

“We do that sort of thing a little different where I’m from. You kind of like - I’ll show you. Here, so I’d put my arm out like this…” He grabbed his cup and planted his elbow on the table, his forearm pointed straight up to the ceiling. “Then you’d match me, you’d put your elbow right next to mine.” 

Byleth grabbed her mug and did what he said. 

“Right, then we tip-” he tipped his forearm away from her slightly “-and then they come back together, more forceful. Usually your drink will spill over the side. And then you twist around each other’s elbow to drink, and you drink the whole thing in one go.” 

He wound them together, but didn’t drink. She had instantly gone red. 

“You definitely didn’t grow up here,” she commented quietly with an odd smile as she took her arm and her drink back.

“What, is this bad?” He’d never tried it with anyone from Fódlan before, and suddenly, he was glad he hadn’t. 

“No, it’s not - just the opposite, in fact. People only do that at weddings here. Their own weddings. With their new husband or wife.” 

“Oh.” 

“Wait - no, is it drinks or food they do that with? I can’t remember. Maybe it’s food. Either way, it’s a wedding thing. Supposed to symbolize unity or something.” 

“It’s a similar sort of thing back home,” Claude told her, “but you usually do it with the man who saw you through your fight, or your brother. My father puts me through it _all the time_. It’s a… less romantic gesture there.” 

The sounds of boots on the wood floor drew Claude to turn around. The barkeep was back with a small wooden bowl in hand, followed closely by a young woman with a lute and a lyre, and a younger man with a jaw harp, small drum, and pan flute. 

“’Ere yous’ are,” the barkeep murmured as he put the bowl of honey down on the tabletop between them. “Anythin’ else?”

“We’re good for now, I think. The others should be here soon. I’d like to ask a favour, though.”

“Yessir.” 

“When you open each of the casks tonight, can you bring the first pull to the lady here? And let her know it’s from the new keg.”

“Course.” 

“Thank you.” He watched the barkeep walk back toward the bar and disappear. 

Byleth took another sip of her drink, drawing his attention. As she put the mug back down on the table, she wrapped her hands around it, like he’d seen her wrap them around tea cups so many times before. He could almost picture her, just sitting there, with some of the flowers he’d brought her in her hair and the silver and emerald ring shining on her hand. She’d be even more radiant than she was now, because they wouldn’t be hiding anymore. They’d be safe, and she’d be… 

“You okay?”

“Hm?” Claude blinked rapidly a few times to clear his head. “Yeah, I’m fine, why?”

“You’re staring.” 

He leaned into the table, keeping his voice low as he answered her. “Sorry. Can’t help it. I think I may have also forgotten how to breathe when I look at you.” 

“You are insufferable,” she replied, but the blush rising to her cheeks told a different story. 

“Would you like to share a dance while I check my tuning? I always find it’s easiest when I have a song to play, and you can enjoy a moment of peace before the party gets started.” 

Claude and Byleth looked over at the bards. The young woman was on a tall stool with her lyre on her knee, her partner on a shorter one off to the side. She was watching them expectantly. 

“Well, By? Will you dance with me?” 

“I’d love to. Thank you,” she added, looking toward the bard. 

The bard smiled and began to pluck at her strings. It quickly filled the room, creating a beautiful, romantic melody that they could easily step in time with. 

_Perhaps we’re not fooling anyone after all,_ Claude thought to himself as he stood and walked around the table, offering Byleth his hand. She placed hers in his and followed him a few feet away, so they’d have room to move. 

“Nothing fancy. Let’s just enjoy ourselves,” he said as he let her hand go. 

She nodded and smiled, stepping into her position easily. He put his left hand on her hip and his right hand into her left, just as he always did, and then he counted her in. 

They moved only in small box steps, in silence, enjoying the music and the closeness to one another. They moved together with a new harmony, more intimately familiar with each other than the last time they’d done this. It was the first time he’d been able to dance with her and simply enjoy it, rather than focusing on the footwork, and he’d never enjoyed it more. 

The bard was coming to the end of her song, and Claude smiled at Byleth, stepping forward into her space and forcing her backward into a dip. She giggled, beaming brightly. There was nothing stopping him, so he leaned closer to place a kiss on the wing of her collarbone-

-when the door opened, and he heard a cacophony of familiar voices nearby. 

He sighed and straightened them up again, holding her only long enough to make sure she had her footing. She leaned to peek around his shoulder to see the others. 

“Let’s claim our seats again, before they do,” he suggested. She nodded and followed him back, her knuckles brushing against his for the briefest moment as she rounded the table. 

“Well, well… look who snuck away early,” Hilda called out, her tone scandalized as she led the large group of their friends into the room. She claimed the seat next to Byleth quickly, the others filing in and sitting around the table with them, but not before stopping to wish Byleth a happy birthday with hugs. 

“There’s only so much room in one carriage, Hilda,” Claude countered as they all seemed to parade past.

“Sure, but there was space left over on the way here.” 

“No there wasn’t,” argued Leonie as she dropped into the empty seat at Claude’s left. “Raphael isn’t a small man, Hilda. I think he took up three spaces on his own.”

Hilda rolled her eyes. “Well, I thought something bad happened. I should have known… he didn’t make you _walk_ here, did he?” she asked as she turned on Byleth.

“What do you think I am, a beast?” Claude countered. “Of course not.” 

“We got a carriage down, too,” Byleth confirmed. 

They were spared further interrogation by the other barkeep bringing them their dinner. The plates went down in front of them with a healthy serving of food, forks sticking out of the top. 

Byleth gave him a pointed look, and he nodded toward her food with what he hoped was a _go ahead, it’s fine_ expression. The heat would have cooked off any deadly poisons. She nodded, plucking her fork from her dinner and breaking off a piece, blowing on it to cool it off before putting it in her mouth. 

Claude was in the process of doing the same when he watched Hilda lean in to Byleth’s ear to whisper something to her over the din. Byleth looked at her from the corner of her eye, but a second later she blushed furiously, her eyes going wide and meeting his for only a split second before Hilda pulled away. Byleth focused intently on her food, seemingly desperate to avoid seeing the devilish smirk on Hilda’s face. 

“Could you at least let the poor woman eat in peace?” he teased. Hilda just shot him back a pointed look. 

_Oh, she thinks she’s playing matchmaker tonight,_ Claude realized. This would be fun. 

Claude ate his food, too, letting the others pull Byleth into conversation. They all got their drinks, and someone shouted, “Cheers!” to the table again, reminding Claude that he now had honey and hadn’t put any in his wine yet when he tipped it back to drink again. 

He stopped eating to do that quickly, giving it another taste. _Passable._

By the time he was done eating, the room had filled quite a bit. Flayn had shown up with Seteth, but opted to sit at their ‘student’ table with them. Catherine and Shamir trailed in after them, along with Alois and Cyril, who looked a little out of place. Claude wondered briefly if it was his first time out. Even his mother had shown up, and - much to Claude’s amusement - seemed to have claimed Cyril as her underling for the night. 

Between them all, Jeralt’s mercenaries filtered in, some spilling over into the other room after wishing their boss well. 

It was a good turn out. They could have done this at the monastery, but there was something to be said about a change of scenery. When was the last time he hadn’t heard this group talking about the war? He could almost imagine he was back in school with them all, as he caught snippets of their conversations. 

Their barkeep took his plate away almost as soon as he was finished, and brought him a fresh cup of wine in the process. Claude drained what little was left in his first one and set it aside, grabbing the honey once more. 

“Claude?”

Byleth was standing at his side. She had a fresh mug in her hand, too. She was wearing her wine blush well, cheeks pink and eyes sparkling. He was glad to see her enjoying herself.

“Having fun?”

She nodded and smiled brightly, but held her cup out toward him. “Second keg.” 

“Already?” He pulled the little vial of charcoal back out, pulling the stopper and tapping some out just the same as he’d done before. He watched and waited for five or so seconds before putting the charcoal away. “You’re good.” 

“Great,” she sighed in relief, and then took a good long pull, draining half of it in one go. 

“What did Hilda say to you?”

“What did - oh.” Byleth blushed even more furiously than before, and didn’t meet his eye when she continued. “She said your suit looked good, but it would look better on my floor.” 

Claude laughed loudly at that. Byleth cracked a smile again, too, finally meeting his eye. 

“I’ve had the same thought a few times tonight, but I wasn’t expecting to hear someone else just _say_ it like that,” Byleth admitted even more quietly as she tipped her mug toward him. He touched his cup to hers and then they drank. 

She smiled brightly at him, but someone called her name from behind him, and she almost skipped away to join them. Her mercs were crowded around a small section of the other table, parting only to let her in. 

“Isn’t she just so cute?”

Leonie had long since left the seat at Claude’s side to join Jeralt’s mercs. Claude turned around again to see Hilda watching him as she lowered herself into it. 

“She’s uncomfortable, is what she is,” Claude answered. “Maybe next time she tells you she doesn’t want any makeup, you’ll listen to her.” 

“I was just trying to do you a favour. Besides, she seems fine now.” 

“You were trying to do _me_ a favour?”

Hilda sighed and rolled her eyes. She’d gone heavier on her own face than usual, the powders on her lids matching the silver brocade on the front of her much fancier dress. 

“I tried to talk her into a more expensive dress, too, but I think the corset and all the layers of skirts scared her off. I guess that’s in your favour, too. She’s got a lovely figure, but a corset could really just give her that extra little bit of-” 

“ _Hilda._ ”

“What?”

“What are you playing at?”

“Oh, no,” she answered him, scandalized. “It is _too early_ for me to reveal those kinds of details, Claude von Riegan.” 

“Great. Well, if that’s the case, I need to do something. Just… stay here.” 

Hilda looked at him with curious eyes as he stood, his wine in hand, and stepped closer to the bards’ stage. 

“You want to say something?” the female bard asked him as he approached. 

“When the song is done, if you don’t mind.” 

The bard nodded, signalling to the man playing with her. They finished their piece and fell silent, nodding that Claude had the floor. 

Claude held his drink up and out, prompting the congregated group to fall into a comfortable hush. He cleared his throat before speaking. 

“Firstly, I’d like to just say thank you to you all for joining us here tonight.” He took a moment to scan the crowd and take them in. Byleth was being shoved out of the ring of her mercenaries, and then shoved up to the front of the whole group by Judith. Leonie had left them at some point and taken a seat across the table from Lorenz, the two of them poised as if Claude had drawn them from a deep and serious discussion. Ashe and Petra were leaning against the wall near the bar, shoulder to shoulder, with Flayn standing nearby, looking at him over her shoulder. Sylvain had two mugs in hand, and slipped into a seat next to Lysithea, handing her one with a smile. Raphael had been speaking to Ignatz, and turned around as Claude began to speak, revealing Marianne. She smiled brightly, grabbing Ignatz’s arm and resting her head on his shoulder. Ignatz looked at her, shocked, then up at the ceiling for half a second, before looking ahead to where Claude was standing with a giddy smile on his face. 

Claude smiled, too, as he continued. “I know we aren’t far from the monastery, but taking the time to join us here means a lot. Now, we are enjoying a change of scenery, I hope?”

Cheers went up around the room, mugs raising and _thumping_ against each other as some of those gathered drank to that. 

“Good! But I also hope that you all remember why we’re here.” Claude let the room look at her in silence for a few seconds. “Today, we have a great deal to celebrate, but I hope you’ll spend your energy celebrating the one woman who made this all happen.”

He looked at Byleth, then, giving her his undivided attention. Her eyes were bright as she watched him, but he could see the embarrassed flush in her cheeks, too. “Byleth, I am so honoured to have met you. I was thinking recently about how six years ago, I was just some kid with wild dreams and grand ambitions who didn’t know you existed. It’s hard to believe that I ever lived my life with you in it in some way. That night in Remire village? It changed my life. Changed the lives of a number of us,” Claude acknowledged, tipping his cup toward what classmates he could see. “You lifted us to incredible heights. You celebrated with us in our victories, and you humbled yourself with us in our failures. Best of all, you let us be witness to _your_ growth, as you embraced the fates that made you the woman you are today. I am so glad to be able to celebrate this day with you this year, my friend. I am so very lucky to walk this path at your side. I wouldn’t trade it for anything.

“So let us toast!” He raised his cup higher, and the entire room followed his gesture. “To victory. To freedom. To peace. And to the woman we know will make it happen - no pressure, Teach.” 

He paused as a ripple of laughter coursed through the room. He took a few steps closer to Byleth. 

“To Byleth!” 

The room roared, the sounds of mugs clashing and drinks splashing drowning out any other sounds. Byleth beamed at him as he closed the distance between them, and then, just as he was about to offer his cup for a cheers of his own, she surprised him by holding her mug high, her elbow bent at a ninety degree, waiting. 

Claude’s eyebrows shot up. He spotted his mother over Byleth’s shoulder. Judith was nodding at her as if to tell him not to keep her waiting, so he stepped closer. He raised his cup, putting his forearm against hers. They swung and clashed their cups together; he could feel the drink spill out onto his hand. Then he locked their elbows, tipped back, and drank. 

A laugh sounded around them. Claude didn’t stop until his cup was empty, taking a little longer than he normally would since his cup was not as deep as hers was. When he pulled away to unlock his elbow from hers, he laughed kindly along with the crowd. 

He hadn’t thought about how the height difference between them might affect her ability to drink. As they unlocked, she rocked back from standing on her tiptoes to standing on her heels naturally, coughing a little. Judith handed her a handkerchief to wipe the spilled ale off her face. 

Once her face was dry, she smiled at him. “That was entirely unnecessary.” 

“I disagree.” 

The bard began to play in earnest once more. When he turned around, the empty floor where he’d been was taken up by a few classmates and knights. 

Claude smiled, then offered Byleth his hand. “Come on. I’ll teach you. Just like old times.” 

She didn’t hesitate as she took his hand. 

Much of the rest of the night passed him by in a blur of bad wine, laughter, and dance. Petra taught them all some traditional dances from Brigid, and he taught a few Almyran ones. Cyril even joined him for some of those. 

At one point, his mother approached him, drawing him away from his classmates. It wasn’t that late, less than an hour past sunset. 

“I’m heading out.”

“Already?”

“I’m not as young as I used to be.” Judith rolled her neck, then covered a yawn. “Did you get any time alone?”

“About half an hour. Not a lot of time, but enough.” 

“I’ll try to keep the dorms clear of wanderers tonight. I’ve already set my own people to take the watches in that area. They’ll keep their mouths well and shut if they know what’s good for them, and believe me, they do.” She gave him a pointed look. “You deserve a little freedom just as much as she does, you know. Besides, your people already have their suspicions. Coin is going to be changing hands tomorrow.” 

“Really? Is that why Hilda is being more intrusive than usual?” 

“Most likely. Alright boy, I’m leaving. Have fun.” 

“Hey.” He reached out and grabbed her arm before she could leave, dropping it when she turned around. “Thank you. I mean it.” 

“You’re welcome, baby boy.” This time, he let her go. 

A short while later, he got to be witness to Byleth’s mercs beating a knight bloody when he got a little too handsy. It had happened so fast, Claude couldn’t keep track. He’d heard someone yelp, and then there was a great scrambling roar as mercenaries surged one corner of the room. The knight was left where he was when they were done with him, bloody and bruised, his brethren not interested in helping him.

“What was that about?” he asked Byleth the next time she came to see him. 

“One of them got too deep into their cups, tried to get his hand up Lysithea’s skirts. My boys took care of him nice and good.” She smiled and shrugged. “He deserved it.” 

“You won’t hear me arguing. Is she okay?” 

“She is now,” Byleth answered him, nodding toward the back wall. Raphael was practically glued to her side. Claude watched him crack his knuckles menacingly, scanning the room as if he expected them to be coming after her in waves. 

“That knight is lucky your men got to him before she did.” 

“ _Very_ lucky,” Byleth laughed. “Come dance with me some more!” 

“Well, if you insist…” 

Byleth rolled her eyes and grabbed his hands, leading him back into the thick of it. 

He checked on Lysithea himself an hour or so later, and she seemed to be alright. Sylvain has taken up a place nearby, as well, keeping an eye on the other girls to make sure they’d be alright. 

Ashe and Petra disappeared at some point. Marianne had fallen asleep on Ignatz’s shoulder, and he seemed afraid to move her. He was speaking with Lorenz - or rather, Lorenz was having a one-sided conversation with him. Leonie has disappeared in the mass of mercenaries an hour or so before and not emerged again since. 

Flayn, surprisingly, had managed to convince Seteth to let her stay behind with the class. She was dancing with Byleth and Lysithea when Hilda approached him again. 

“Looks like she’s getting tired,” Hilda commented. Her cheeks were bright with her wine blush. 

“Yeah. She’ll probably want to head home soon.” 

“You can’t seriously be sending her home _alone_.”

“Who said I was?” 

Hilda rolled her eyes. 

“Alright, Hilda. Spill it. How much did you bet, and what were the terms?” 

“How do you find these things out?” she pouted. 

“I just do.” 

She scoffed at him. “You can’t seriously think you’re fooling anyone, Claude. Anyone who looks at you can tell that you’ve got it _bad._ ” 

The song came to a close, and Claude watched Byleth shake her head and go take a seat. She yawned, then took a drink from her mug. Raphael sat next to her and clapped her on the shoulder, saying something Claude couldn’t make out. 

“I wish you could see yourself. Seriously, it’s sickening.” 

“So what is this bet?” 

“That you’ll finally get to it tonight.” She gave him a pointed look. “There are a bunch of people who think you’re too afraid because of the war and stuff. But there are some who think you won’t be able to stop yourself now.”

“Is that so?” He smiled to himself. “They think that _tonight_ would be the first night that I offer myself to her?” 

“Mhmm. _I_ just bet that you wouldn’t let her go home alone. I know you better than that, I’m basically guaranteed a payout.” 

“Well, then, I hope you enjoy that payout, because no one will have any confirmation either way on anything else.” He smiled quietly, still watching Byleth. She looked up and met his eye for a second, smiling back, before she yawned and Raphael spoke to her again, drawing her attention. 

“Don’t you seem confident.”

“You should also know me better than to think I’d be intentionally sloppy about keeping things like that private. Besides, this is all a moot point,” he told Hilda. His smile turned dangerous as he leaned into her ear, keeping his voice low. “You’re all about two moons too late.” 

He looked down at her for only a second, long enough to take in her shocked, wide eyes and her triumphant smile. “I _knew_ it! You have to - hey, get back here!”

But Claude was gone. He was getting tired, too, and he was ready to claim Byleth for himself for a while. 

“Oh, hey Claude!”

“Hey, Raphael. Thanks for helping Lysithea out earlier.” 

“It was the least I could do. Just what kind of person thinks that’s okay? I’m not going to let that happen to anyone ever again.” 

He nodded, then looked down at Byleth. “You look tired.” 

“I am. I think it’s time to head home.” 

“I’m ready whenever you are.” 

“You don’t have to come with me, you can stay if you want.” 

“Actually, I _do_ have to come with you. I’m the one holding onto your key for you, remember? Besides, I’m getting a little worn out myself. I haven't danced like that in years.” 

She giggled and then sighed. “I knew I was going to regret not getting a bag.” 

“Well, bye Professor! Bye Claude!” 

“Bye, Raph,” Byleth answered him kindly as she stood. 

“You want to say goodbye to anyone?”

She shook her head as she yawned again. “I’ll see them in the morning.” 

“After you, then.” 

Byleth nodded. She walked slowly toward the front door, right past a still shocked Hilda. Claude threw her a wink as he followed. 

“Heading home, Professor?” 

“I’m exhausted,” Byleth answered Hilda over her shoulder, not stopping to look. “I’ll see you tomorrow. Get back safely!” 

They left otherwise unaccosted. Claude looked up and down the street as he stepped outside, and spotted their carriage in the village square, waiting for them again. 

He offered Byleth his arm again, and she clung to it as they walked the short distance. He helped her up into the carriage and then sat next to her, exactly as he had just that afternoon. 

She seemed surprisingly steady on her feet. Her eyes were still bright and clear, but the wine blush in her cheeks was strong. 

“How are you feeling?” he asked her.

“Good. I don’t get drunk the way I used to before… before,” she repeated. He knew what she meant. “But I still get just as hungover.” 

“I guess it can’t all be good, can it?” 

They laughed together at that. It was a beautiful clear night, drawing his attention to the stars above. Byleth putting her hand on his a minute or two later drew him back to the present. 

He took a good look at her. Whatever Hilda had put on her eyes was beginning to melt away, and the rouge on her cheeks was basically gone. Still, he thought she was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. 

“Did you have fun?” she asked him.

He nodded. “Did _you?_ ”

“I did. Thank you for this. I think we all needed it, especially with what’s to come.” 

They would be leaving for Fort Merceus the day after tomorrow. She was right. This was a celebration for her, but it was just as much of a morale booster for their group. Things would be bleak from here on out. 

“Let’s not talk about that tonight,” he suggested. 

She nodded. “Right.” 

She looked up at the stars with a smile on her face. He turned his hand so they could lace their fingers together again, and then he spent the rest of the carriage ride simply watching her. 

The trip back to the monastery was, gratefully, short. The carriage driver dropped them off in the market, and Claude helped Byleth down before offering her his arm once more. 

He spotted his mother’s men at regular intervals along the way back to her room. As they noticed them approaching, they would instantly begin to engage any people nearby, keeping their attention or drawing them out of sight entirely, allowing Claude and Byleth to reach her door otherwise unnoticed. 

Byleth took her arm back when they stopped in front of her door. Claude dug into his pocket and produced her key, pressing it into her waiting palm. She slotted it into the keyhole and turned. 

“Hey, By?”

“Yes?” 

“I have one more thing for you tonight. If you’re interested, that is.” 

“Do you now?” She swung the door open, and then took a look around them. He did the same; they were clear. Her smile, when he met her eye again, told him everything he needed to know. “I was hoping you’d say that.” 

He smiled, too, as he followed her in and locked the door. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay! One of the disadvantages to nice long chapters is that I caught up to myself way faster than I expected to. Updates won’t be as frequent moving forward, because I’m still writing. I hope they’ll be worth the wait!


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Suggestive themes

Claude woke slowly in the early morning hours to a face full of green hair. 

He smiled to himself, not moving right away. She was wrapped up securely in his arms. One was behind her neck and curled around her chest, his hand resting on her shoulder. The other was wound around her waist. He squeezed her closer for five seconds or so, but her hair threatened to suffocate him. 

He lifted the arm from around her waist, and let go of her shoulder, letting his other arm fall flat against the mattress. Instantly, she pushed her back into his chest, making him laugh quietly. He used his free hand to lift her hair off of her neck and out of his face. 

He pressed a gentle kiss into her exposed neck. She was salty, sweaty - a testament to a job well done. He watched her breathe as she slept, the steady rise and fall of her shoulder marking the time. 

He rolled over after a couple of minutes. She made a wordless protest in her sleep, rolling away from him, and he reluctantly pulled his arm out from under her neck. 

Her windows were dark. He could leave now, and ideally still make it back to his own room unseen. 

With every day that passed, he was getting more and more tired of the secrecy. He wanted to just exist with her, honestly. To not be afraid of what the enemy might do if they found out. The Claude he remembered would have had no issue with secret-keeping of any kind. What had changed? When had it changed? 

He’d told Hilda, for fuck’s sake.

He sighed, tossing the covers off of himself and sitting on the edge of the bed for a moment. He pushed his own hair back off of his face before turning to fix the blankets so that were covering Byleth properly. The scent of her was fading, but it still clung to him for the moment. He was going to need to hit the bath house tomorrow. 

Finally, he willed himself to stand and get dressed again, not bothering to button closed his tunic or overcoat. He picked Byleth’s dress up off the floor and laid it over the back of her chair as he collected his own things. 

He unlocked her door as quietly as possible, then turned the handle and swung it open just wide enough to see down the lane. He’d have to walk all the way to the other end in order to reach the stairs, and then almost the entire length again to reach his room. It might prove tricky; he didn’t know how long his mother’s soldiers were on for. 

Thankfully, the lane was empty. He risked sticking his head out further to check the short distance from Byleth’s room to the training ground, but it was empty, too. So he stepped outside and carefully, quietly, closed the door behind himself. 

He tiptoed down her steps and then jogged across the lane, so that he could be hidden behind the carefully landscaped trees as he walked if he needed to be. He walked slowly, glad that his boots weren’t as noisy as his others for the first time since he’d put them on. I’ll have to take them off when I get to the stairs, though. It’ll be enough to wake someone up once I’m inside. 

He reached the steps halfway down the lane and took a deep breath, carefully peering out from behind a tree to see if the rest of the lane below was clear. Just as he was about to dart out and take the stairs, he caught sight of someone coming from the opposite direction. 

He ducked behind the tree and out of sight again on instinct, his heart racing. After a few seconds, though, he realized he needed to see where this person was going so that he could make a plan, and peeled out again. 

His eyebrows shot up when he realized that it was Petra. Her long burgundy hair fell tangled and loose across her shoulders as she walked to her own room in what looked to be the cotton slip of her dress, the rest of the layers thrown over her arm. She stood in front of her door for a few seconds, no doubt trying to get it unlocked, before it finally opened and she slipped inside. 

Claude breathed a sigh of relief. He made a mental note to add her to the list of people to check on in the morning, and smiled to himself. He decided to forgo the stairs, instead making the short jump down the ledge so that he could stay on the far edge of the lane. 

Now that he was halfway to the stairs, he picked up his pace. Thankfully, no one else crossed his path. 

He breathed a sigh of relief as he reached the stairs, taking his boots off part of the way up. From here, he could at least claim he was just returning from needing to relieve himself. 

He thought he could hear a giggle as he passed Hilda’s room, muffled through the door. Ashe had moved into Caspar’s old room when he returned due to the lock on his old room being seized, and his door wasn’t quite closed when Claude walked past. Claude could see from where he stood in front of his own door that Sylvain’s was wide open. 

Claude’s curiosity got the better of him. He put his boots down in front of his own door, then walked slowly toward Sylvain’s room, his hand on his sword. 

Sylvain’s room was empty. Claude sighed and left. If anyone was going to be out late and also leave his door wide open, it would be Sylvain. 

Claude fished out his own room key, sliding it as quietly as he possibly could into the keyhole. He turned it slowly, and flinched when the bolt thunked open, the sound almost echoing in the early morning hush of the dorms. His door, thankfully, swung open silently, but he winced again as he locked it from the inside. 

He wasted no time in stripping back down and climbing into his own bed. It was cold. There was too much room. He huffed out a sigh and closed his eyes, trying not to think too hard about how badly he wished he could have just stayed with Byleth. 

  
  


* * *

  
  
  


He woke with a start to insistent knocking on his door. 

“Claude? Are you there?”

“Just a minute,” he called, scrubbing at his eyes. His mouth felt like he was chewing cotton. 

It was brighter than he expected it to be outside. It made his head pound. Had he missed breakfast? 

He rolled out of bed, pulling on his pants from last night and grabbing his tunic in a daze. He pulled it on haphazardly as he unlocked his door. 

Hilda stood on the other side. He sighed when he saw her. 

“Can’t you wait until I’ve at least eaten?” 

“I’m not here about - I need some help,” she admitted. She looked tired, and her hair was a mess. 

Claude shook his head at her, but waved her in and started to walk toward his desk. “Why do I suddenly feel like I’m a student again?” 

“ _You_ can shut up, von Riegan.” 

Claude scoffed as he opened his desk drawer and pulled out a tiny vial of purple potion. “I could just keep this, you know. Someone else may or may not have a use for it.”

“Okay, I’m sorry,” Hilda huffed. They both knew he wouldn’t actually deny her.

Claude handed it to her. She pulled the stopper and tipped it back in one fluid motion, breathing a sigh of relief as she handed the empty vial back. “Thank you,” she said. 

“Lucky for you I’m still making this stuff.” 

“Alright, now, you are going to-”

“-not tell you anything until I’ve eaten and woken up properly. Or until I’ve distributed help to other needy individuals. Oh, and don’t forget making sure you are sworn to utmost secrecy.” 

Hilda crossed her arms, but she didn’t press it further. “I don’t think they’ll be serving breakfast for too much longer. I’d suggest you get dressed and head down there as soon as you can if you want to eat.” 

“I won’t be long behind you.” 

“Thank you, Claude. Seriously.” 

“Don’t worry about it.” 

She left him, then, pulling his door shut behind herself as she left. 

Claude shook his head, quickly stripping down and getting dressed in his regular daily clothes. Just as he was finishing the tie on his sash, someone else knocked on his door. 

“It’s unlocked,” he called, turning around to see Byleth walking in when the door opened. “Good morning.”

“Hey,” she answered him simply. “Busy hallway this morning, everyone’s up late.”

“I wonder why.” She snorted at his humourless tone. “What’s up?” 

“Just seeing how you were feeling. We need to go get food soon or we’ll miss it.” 

“Yeah. Do me a favour and at least swing that door closed a bit?” 

Byleth nodded, leaving the door open only about an inch, then standing behind it so that she’d be invisible from the hallway. Claude dug back into his drawer and grabbed two vials: one familiar purple, one a watery green. 

“Here.” He offered them both to her. She pulled the stopper on the purple without hesitation, tipping it back, but she looked at the green one hesitantly. “It’s for the hangover.”

“Oh, thank Sothis,” she breathed, taking it, too. He laughed kindly at her and took one himself. Immediately, the cotton feeling in his mouth dissipated, and the pounding in his head subsided. 

She handed him back both empty vials when she was done. He put them with his other empties. _Need to make more soon_. “Alright, let’s go.” 

She nodded, but didn’t move. He went to walk past her, but she grabbed his wrist, tugging him back around. 

He knew the door was open, but he smiled. There was no denying her, after all. 

His good morning kiss for her was almost lazy, and definitely sloppy. They didn’t linger long, though. The door was, after all, open. 

“I didn’t want to leave, you know,” he told her quietly. 

“Some day, you won’t have to.” 

He stared at her in silence for a few seconds or an eternity, he wasn’t sure. Everything in him screamed at him to stop making excuses and hiding her away, but thankfully, this time, his heart _did_ listen to logic. 

“Get out of here before I make us miss breakfast entirely,” he told her, shaking his head. She laughed, but led the way outside. He stayed close on her heels. 

They walked in silence, getting their trays and finding a place to sit. They ended up across from each other at a table, with Claude next to Hilda. 

“I had so much fun last night,” Hilda gushed as they sat down. “How are you feeling, Professor?” 

“Rough,” she admitted. “I don’t know what was in that potion you gave me, Claude, but I’m not sure it did more than take the edge off.” 

“Hm. I wonder if that’s an odd effect of the goddess’ power?” _Does that mean the other one wouldn’t work, either? That’s not good. They might need to have a difficult talk later._

“Well, I’d say that means you had a good time,” Hilda said. Her tone was heavy with suggestion. She leaned into the table. Claude looked at her, and noticed Petra taking a seat a few seats down from them, alone. “Did you notice? Ashe and Petra disappeared last night, and early. I wonder what they got up to?”

Petra looked tired, and surprisingly stressed. A little colour rose to her cheeks, too timely to be due to anything other than hearing Hilda gossiping. 

“I don’t think that’s fair, Hilda,” Claude commented, taking a bite of his food. “Different people enjoy themselves in different ways. Besides, isn’t gossiping like school children a little uncalled for?” 

Hilda tutted at him, but when she noticed Petra finally, it was her turn to blush. From embarrassment. 

“How long did the rest of you stay?” Byleth asked.

Hilda contemplated for a few seconds as she chewed. “An hour, maybe less.” She shrugged. “They ran out of drinks, so we packed it in. Did you have a good night, Professor?” 

“I did. I needed that. I think we all did.” 

Hilda nodded her agreement, stuffing the last bite of her breakfast into her mouth just as Sylvain walked by. 

“Oh, hey,” he offered, slowing to a stop. 

“I expect ten gold coins in my hand by the end of the day, Sylvain,” Hilda stated, then she grabbed her empty tray and stood. “I need to go. I'll see you for the meeting this afternoon.” 

Claude nodded, going back to his breakfast. 

“Can’t we just say that I already paid you?” Claude was sure he heard Sylvain say as they walked away. He couldn’t hear Hilda’s answer. 

“The real question is what _they_ got up to last night,” Byleth murmured across the table. 

Claude snorted. “I swear I heard Hilda up giggling when I walked by on my way back to mine this morning.” 

“Oh?” 

“Sylvain’s room was empty, too. He left his door wide open.” 

“Well, isn’t that interesting.” She took a deep pull from her drink. “I wonder if they’re meeting needs, or if it’s serious?”

Claude laughed. “Come on, you’re just as bad as she is.” 

“Can’t blame a girl for being curious. I’m a little behind on this sort of thing, after all.” She grabbed a piece of toast and took a huge bite. “Plus, knowing this kind of thing helps me keep them alive and focused in a fight.”

He nodded. That made sense. How often would he be distracted because he couldn’t find her? He stuck close whenever he could for a reason. 

“Here.” Byleth broke their silence by grabbing her plate and tipping what was left behind onto his. She had a couple pieces of fried pork belly and a slice of buttered toast left. “I can’t finish it, and I want to go soak in the bath house anyway.”

“Sure. Uh, can I talk to you later, after our meeting this afternoon? Maybe in the Captain’s office would be best.” 

She froze halfway standing from her seat. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah, we’re fine. Don’t worry too much. I want to go over strategy one more time before we go. It’s just not a conversation to be having with an audience.” 

She nodded and smiled, taking her tray as she left. She wished Petra a good morning as she passed. 

Claude finished his food quickly, grabbing his own empty tray as he got up. Instead of leaving, however, he dropped into a seat across from Petra. 

“Hello, Claude.” 

“Hey, Petra. Sorry about Hilda. Some things just don’t change.” 

Petra smiled kindly. “I do not have caring if others are talking about it. I was just having surprise, that is all.” 

“You feeling okay?” 

“I am having a pain in my head. But I am fine.” She took a quick drink. “Actually, Claude, I am having need to be asking you a question.” 

“What do you need?” 

“I am wondering if you are knowing when Manuela is being open to see patients.” 

Claude looked at her for a moment. She had blushed when she asked that, avoiding his gaze. 

“I may be able to do you one better, actually.” He waited until she looked up at him again to speak, leaning into the table. “I’m not sure what’s wrong - and it’s none of my business - but I’m sure you know I happen to know a little potion-brewing.” 

“I am having knowledge, yes.” 

“I may be able to help you sooner. Which means I can help you more effectively.”

“You are being able to help with…” She didn’t finish her sentence, but she absently put a hand over her stomach. 

Claude nodded. “I made a fresh batch last week. You’d be amazed how quickly I go through this stuff.” 

Petra gave him a curious look, but she nodded, going back to her food and looking much more relaxed than she had a moment ago. “Thank you, Claude.” 

“The sooner you come see me, the better. I’ll be in my room.” 

“I will be arriving when I am having finished eating.” 

Claude put his empty tray away, and then went straight back to his room, leaving the door open. He took one each of the purple and the green potions out and put them on the desk, then began collecting his things for a trip to the bath house, himself. 

He was just finishing putting his bag together when Petra stopped in the doorway. 

“Claude?”

“Oh, hey. They’re on the desk, there,” he pointed. “Green is for a hangover, if you want. Purple is the one you need.” 

“The purple one will be stopping the…” she trailed off. 

“Yeah.” He nodded, turning around to see her putting the stopper back onto the empty vial and placing it down on the desk. She reached for the green one next. 

“Thank you, Claude.”

“Don’t worry about it.” 

“I can be having money to you-”

“That’s not necessary.” 

“Is this not having a great cost to you?” 

“I have sources,” he answered her. “Just promise you’ll let me know if and when you need it. Within reason. I’m not a bottomless well of the stuff, after all, and it’s in higher demand these days.” 

“I will. Thank you. I will be leaving you now.” 

“Don’t forget we have a meeting this afternoon!” he called after her. 

“I will not be forgetting!” she called back from down the hall. 

He shouldered his bag and made his way toward the bath house. 

Now that they had returned to the monastery, Claude and his former classmates had claimed the use of the private bath room, which had once been an Academy staff private bath. They’d turned it into a superior officer bath when they took over. 

Claude was surprised to see the bath full when he stepped in from the changing room. In fact, looking at the faces in the bath room, he realized that all of his former classmates were here. 

“-nobody have any confirmation on it?”

“He’s always been secretive.”

“Yeah, but come on, have you seen them? There’s no way-”

Raphael’s voice boomed through the room, cutting through the chatter. “Oh, hey, Claude!” 

“Hey, guys.” 

The room went quiet as Claude approached the bath. He dropped the towel at his waist just before stepping into the water and joining his classmates, sitting between Ignatz and Sylvain. 

“You can go back to your conversation.” Claude looked at their uncomfortable faces and smiled. “I know about the bet.” 

“How do you learn about these things, Claude?” Ignatz asked. “I’ll never understand it.” 

“I know people, and I see things,” he answered with a shrug. “How’s Marianne feeling this morning?” 

Ignatz turned a little red. Everyone had turned their attention on him, after all. “I - I haven’t seen her since we got back from town last night.” 

“Maybe when you get out of here, you should,” Sylvain suggested. 

“She made it back safely, I promise!” 

“Not what I was asking for,” Claude chuckled. That didn’t surprise him, though. Those two would trip over each other for ever before they came around. 

Lorenz spoke before anyone could say anything else. “How’s the Professor feeling?” 

“Rough, apparently,” Claude answered him. “She came by this morning for something to help with the hangover, but it wasn’t as effective as she wanted.” 

“For _something_ to help?” Sylvain taunted him. 

“Not the same _something_ that Hilda asks for, I’m sure.” 

A chorus of _oohs_ echoed around the room. Sylvain laughed, though. 

“I forgot you play dirty. Alright, then, Claude. Your turn.” 

“For what?” 

“Spill it. You left with the Professor early last night. What did you get up to?” 

“If you must know, she asked me to hold on to her key to her room for her because she didn’t have pockets or a bag. So I _had_ to leave with her.” 

“I refuse to believe that is the truth of the matter.” 

“You’d refuse to believe anything I say on principle, Lorenz. Just pay Hilda her ten gold and be done with it.” 

“He makes a point, though, Claude,” Ashe said. “You’ve always kind of been smitten with her. For as long as _I_ remember, anyway. That’s hardly a secret.” 

“She’s always been close to you, too,” Raphael added. “It’s easy to see why so many people are wondering.” 

“Even you, Raphael?” 

Raphael shrugged. “It’s none of my business. But lots of people are talking about it.” 

Claude sighed. “I am neither confirming nor denying anything,” he settled on, “but I will say that it’s between Byleth and me, regardless, and I won’t be discussing it.” 

“You’re no fun,” Sylvain teased. 

“Sorry to disappoint.” 

Sylvain heaved a sigh next to him. “You know, I missed this sort of thing.” 

“What, sitting around in a bath with a bunch of other men? I fear I’ve completely misread you, then.” Lorenz stated dryly. They all laughed at that, even Sylvain.

“Well, yeah, I guess. There’s a strange sort of comradery in it. It’s different than sharing a drink or training together.” 

“I know what you mean,” Ashe replied. “But it’s also kind of luxurious, too. Fifteen years ago, if you were to ask me if I’d be doing this, I would have called you crazy.” 

“I’m just glad they’re so available here.” Claude shook his head. “Where I grew up, water was considered sacred. Only the royal family really got to bathe regularly.” 

Ignatz shook his head. “I can understand water being sacred, but not bathing? How do you just live in that grit?” 

“It’s not fun or comfortable,” Ashe answered him. “This is still a luxury here. Before Lord Lonato took me in, I was bathing in a freezing cold stream once a week - if I was lucky. A bath tub with a few inches of warm water was a once-a-year treat.” 

“It can create all sorts of health problems, too,” Claude added. “It’s not a good thing.” 

“Perhaps we should consider putting resources into building such establishments for the commoners, then, Claude.”

Claude looked up at Lorenz. “I agree, actually. Once the war is over and we can afford to spend on infrastructure again, I’d be more than happy to support that. Though it may have to wait until you take over.” 

Lorenz sighed and shook his head. “I do wish my father would let me. He does not care for our people. That is our _one job_ as nobles.” 

“That’s what happens when you become too obsessed with eliminating a rival,” Claude sighed. He’d never met his uncle. He still resented Lorenz’s father for that. “And the best part is that he probably thinks he’s doing it for _you_. So instead of letting you take over, he’ll hold on to it until he can’t anymore, like my grandfather did.” 

“Stubborn old man.” 

“Shit like that only happened with the lesser lords in Faerghus,” Sylvain told them. “Trying to vy for a higher social status. It didn’t matter, in the end, because none of them had Crests, but they all still thought they could climb anyway.” 

“I never understood how the Alliance gets anything done. Wouldn’t it be easier with a king or queen to pass orders to the lords?” 

“Maybe, but that’s not always in the best interests of the people,” Claude answered Ashe. “It’s a lot more politics, but each of the five major ruling lords have a number of smaller lords beneath them who are responsible for different regions within their territory. They can then bring the concerns of their people to their major ruling lords, like myself or Lorenz, and we then take it to our round table conference, where we can vote on solutions to those issues. It’s a longer process, but it’s better for the common people.” 

“When the Alliance was first founded, it was done this way so that there would be an equal representation and no singular ‘ruler’. Though as time went on, House Riegan emerged as a superior house in the eyes of the other lords.” 

“You sound almost academic, Lorenz. Where’s that generations-deep contempt I’m so used to?” 

“I am simply stating facts. My own personal opinions have no place in this conversation.” Lorenz sighed and stood, stepping out of the bath and wrapping his own towel around his waist. “I have some work that needs to be completed before our meeting this afternoon. I will see you all then.” 

Their collective goodbyes rang through the room as he left them. 

“ _Now_ will you tell us what happened last night?” Sylvain prodded.

“What? No,” Claude answered him with a scowl and a shake of his head. “I have my reasons, alright? Can we just leave it be?” 

“Look, man, we’re all just deadly curious to know what’s going on,” Sylvain explained. 

“Then everyone can keep being deadly curious.” 

Ignatz laughed quietly.

Sylvain sighed. “Well, if he won’t talk, that means you have to.” 

“Me?” Ashe instantly went red in the face, his shoulders curling in to make him a smaller target. “Why?” 

“Because the rest of us are bedding _normal_ people when we are, so if I can’t hear what the experience of a woman blessed by the _fucking goddess_ is like, then I _have_ to hear what a foreign princess is like.” 

“How does that even...” Claude couldn’t even find the words to finish his thought. 

Sylvain didn’t seem to hear him, or to care. “So? How was it? Do they have any different techniques in Brigid? Odd traditions?” 

“She’s still human, Sylvain. I’m pretty sure all humans go about it the same way. But… I don’t know. She’s insatiable, I swear. I am _exhausted_.” They all shared a laugh at that. “Still, I worry about… the consequences, I guess. We are at war.” 

“She’ll be fine. I took care of it.” 

They all turned to look at Claude. 

“How?” Raphael asked.

“A complicated and difficult to brew potion. I’ve been making it for years.”

“What, you just decided one day to learn to brew up a seed-killer for no reason?” Sylvain asked him.

“Those aren’t cheap,” Ignatz added.

Claude blushed a little. “Not for _no_ reason. I was particularly hot-blooded when I was fifteen or so. I’d already been distilling poisons for a few years at that point, and it isn’t all that different. The ingredients weren’t as rare where I grew up, either.”

Sylvain looked genuinely surprised. “I had no idea.”

“Well it’s not cheap, as Ignatz already said. But I’ve had enough practice these days that it’s easy to throw together. I’d prefer if only our friends were in the know on this, by the way. I don’t have enough on hand at one given point to supply the whole monastery.” 

“Obviously,” Ashe agreed. “Thank you for that, by the way.” 

“Don’t worry about it,” Claude said, for what felt like the hundredth time that day. 

Ashe laughed to himself. “I didn’t realize how much that was bothering me. How do you deal with it, Sylvain?” 

“There are plenty of roads that lead to Fhirdiad, my friend.” 

Claude tuned them out as they continued to talk. He ached to be able to join them. Is this what having friends was like? _Real_ friends? Byleth was the first real friend he’d had, but at this point, she didn’t count. Not the same way, anyway. 

If only… he could tell them she was both the most magical experience he’d ever had, and so incredibly mundane at the same time, so _normal_ , so human. He could share how her gasps and sighs and moans were the most delectable music his ears had ever heard. He could brag about how well they fit together, moved together, laughed and let go together. How the vision of her coming undone at his insistence reminded him that raw, unrestrained beauty still existed in this bleak and miserable world. 

But no. He couldn’t. Even making mention to Hilda as he did could prove to have dire consequences. No matter how satisfying her reaction to it had been.

“Claude? Are you okay?” 

Claude looked up at Ignatz when he spoke. Raphael was gone; Claude hadn’t even noticed him leave. Sylvain and Ashe trailed off to look at him. 

“Yeah,” Claude finally answered him. The lies came too easily. “Just thinking about strategy. Fort Merceus is going to be difficult no matter how well prepared we are.” 

“We’ve got you and the Professor. No matter what happens, we’ll be fine if we have the two of you.” 

Claude couldn’t help but smile. “Thanks, Ignatz. I sincerely hope you’re right.” 

  
  


* * *

  
  
  


Claude stood over Jeralt’s desk, staring down at a map of the Empire, when the lock on the door turned over. 

“Sorry to keep you,” Byleth called out as she walked in, closing and locking the door behind herself. “I got caught up by the others.” 

“It’s okay.” Claude watched her cross the room. Her shoulders were slumped and her eyes were heavy. “You look tired.” 

“I am,” she told him. “All the girls apparently decided to take a bath at the same time today. They kept poking me to try and figure out what’s going on between us.” 

“Yeah, the guys were giving me a lot of the same,” Claude admitted. 

“Maybe we need to give it some space. We’re obviously not doing a good enough job-”

“If you mean that, then I’ll agree, but I would rather we don’t.” He reached out toward her, and she stepped into his embrace without hesitation. “The talk is mostly harmless. It’s confirmation that makes us bigger targets. Besides, it’s better for their morale to talk about us than it is for them to talk about the battle.” 

“You’re sure?” 

“I am.” 

She was quiet for fifteen seconds or so. “Okay,” she agreed, then pulled away far enough that she could stand on her toes and kiss him. 

“Um… I _do_ need to talk to you, though,” he finally admitted when she dropped back down onto flat feet.

“What’s wrong?” 

Claude wished he had a mug of tea or something; his mouth was suddenly quite dry, and his stomach was constructing uncomfortably. “That potion I gave you for the hangover should have erased it completely. But you still feel uncomfortable?” 

“It helped take the edge off, but I still have a headache and my appetite isn’t great.” 

“Right. I don’t know why that is. The only explanation I can think of is that somehow, your blessing from the goddess is giving you some sort of resistance to some of the ingredients.”

“Hm. It’s possible, if unfortunate. Though I fail to see why that’s an issue.” 

“Because if you’re resistant to some ingredients, it might mean that…” He took a deep, steadying breath. “It might mean that the other potion isn’t working as intended, either.” 

Some of the colour drained from her face briefly, but then she shook her head. “I just finished a course a few days ago. It was normal, healthy. I feel perfectly fine otherwise.” 

He breathed a sigh of relief. “Good. That’s good. We should maybe try to be smarter about things, though, just to be safe.” 

“How so?”

“Being careful of timing, I guess. Doctors where I’m from tell us that ten days after a cycle is when - it’s less safe after that, until the cycle begins again with the first blood.” 

“I’m confident that I’ll be fine,” she assured him. “I don’t think all this hard fighting and training will allow me to actually carry a child, anyway. It barely allows me to have regularly timed courses anymore.” 

“That can change?”

She nodded at him. “It was always a shorter time between them when we were slow on work. When we moved here and I was teaching and fighting more, it became less frequent. My last one before this one was... almost four moons ago?” 

“You’re sure that’s healthy?”

She nodded. “I checked with Manuela when it first started happening. Apparently it’s normal. Something to do with strenuous activity and low body fat.” 

He nodded. “You’ll tell me if something doesn’t seem right, though?” 

“Of course,” she promised. 

He nodded, satisfied with her answer. A weight seemed to lift from his shoulders, and he held her close, squeezing her tightly. She laughed as she hugged him back. 

He let her go after about a minute. She stared at him when he did, making him hot in the face. 

“This is weighing on you, isn’t it?” 

“I’m… yeah. It is, sort of. It’s been kind of nagging at me for a while, but it really hit me this morning.” He ran a hand down his face and sighed, looking down at his map again and leaning on the desk, both palms spread wide. It had been a long time since he’d felt this vulnerable under her gaze. “I’ve never really had a lot of friends. Not _real_ friends, anyway. Too many people hated me for something entirely out of my control. You were the first person I’d consider a real friend, but even then, at the start, you were my Teach. I assumed it was purely professional for a while. I hoped it wasn’t for a long while longer. But, sitting in the bath with the guys today… I don’t know. The secrets and the deception just kind of weighed me down. I think I want to be a friend to them, too, but I can’t just be _me_ , you know? What if word got out? If they knew who I was, or what we are, then…” 

“Claude.”

He looked at her again when her hand found his on the desktop. Her eyes were scrunched up empathetically. It wasn’t even his real name, and yet, the way it fell from her tongue felt like home.

“I’ll follow your lead on this. But if you’re tired of hiding, then don’t. They want to be your friend, too, I think. They wouldn’t be poking and prodding about your sex life otherwise. That’s what friends do.” 

“Is it?” He laughed a little, then sighed again. “Well, I guess after this fight, there won’t be any more hiding who _I_ am.” 

“Why is that?” 

“This is for your ears only, but there’s actually one more part to my plan,” he told her. “Well, Judith probably knows, too, but that’s because she wouldn’t have heard it from me. I had hoped it wouldn’t come to this, but I had no choice.”

“No choice?”

“Absolutely. We can’t afford to hold anything back. Thanks to Edelgard’s strength, the Imperial army is more unified than I would have expected. It was a painful realization, but after our battle at Gronder Field, it’s clear that we can’t win if we don’t pull out all the stops.” He paused to gauge her reaction, and then continued, his train of thought derailing a little. “I also realized something else during that battle.” 

“Oh?”

“There really is something special about you.” 

She laughed kindly at him. “You’re only just realizing this?” 

“No, I - what I mean is, the reason we were all able to keep our cool in the midst of all that chaos was because we all trust in you. In your command and in your strength. Everyone here believes that we will win as long as we have you on our side. Our faith in you is borderline religious.” She looked uncomfortable when he said that, but it was the truth, and unfortunately, she needed to hear it. He put his free hand over hers where it still rested on his. “You and I… we have what it takes to free Fódlan from the Empire’s rule. I know in my heart that we’ll make it through to witness the world after all the fighting has ceased.”

She smiled at him then. It was warm. “That doesn’t tell me your plan, Claude.” 

“No, it doesn’t.” He shook his head. He was becoming a sentimental fool. “My father returned home around the same time I left Derdriu last. He’s meeting with Hilda’s brother, then bringing a vanguard of fliers and cavalry across the border. He’ll be meeting us at Fort Merceus to help with the assault, and the rest of the army will arrive in time to join us for the fight in Enbarr.” 

“They won’t be our decoy Alliance army.”

“No. I’ll be taking a small company and entering the fort from this side.” He took his hands back from her and pointed at the north entrance, then pointed at the south entrance when he continued. “The rest of you will be coming in from this way. My father and his company will join me.” 

“This will be the first test, won’t it?”

“I’m worried, but we can’t afford to _not_ take this help.”

“It’s not a bad place to start. My father always did say that battles formed stronger bonds than cups ever could.” 

“That’s what I’m counting on.” 

“Take my boys. They’re just small enough, and they’ll serve you well.” 

“Are you sure?”

“Absolutely.” She looked at him silently for a few seconds. “You need something more.” 

“You know me too well.” He sighed, gathering her in close. “One last indulgence, before we go?” 

“Whatever you need of me,” she answered him, still smiling as she stretched up on her toes once more. 

  
  


* * *

  
  
  


“Hilda, I cannot stress this enough. You cannot tell _anyone_ _else_ that you know this.”

“I won’t. Seriously, truly, honestly. I get it. Well, actually, I don’t. But it’s obviously important to you.” 

Claude sighed in relief as he poked at the coals of the fire. He was back in Jeralt’s office, brewing a fresh batch of his potion. The little kettle fire in his room wasn’t large enough for a batch this size. 

Hilda was on the couch, leaning over the arm. She was, thankfully, keeping her voice low. He was knelt on a cushion in front of the hearth. 

He contemplated the best way to explain his reasoning for a moment before answering her. “Let’s take a moment and try to imagine something, then.” 

“Okay…” 

“Let’s say, for example’s sake, that Hubert were anywhere close to Edelgard what Byleth is to me on a strictly professional level.” 

“He sort of is.”

“But he’s not,” Claude countered. “Byleth is an equal partner in this to me, or at least I try to make her one. Hubert as he is, though imperative to Edelgard _personally_ , is quite disposable. So let’s pretend that they run their army together, like Byleth and I do.” 

“Okay?”

“Honest question: how do you think this army would do if either Byleth or I were killed?”

“You won’t be, though.” 

“You don’t know that. Also, that’s not an answer.” 

Hilda sighed. “Honest answer?”

“Yes.” 

“This thing wouldn’t quite stick. You two are each strong and capable, but I think we all feel like you can’t do this properly without each other.” 

Claude nodded at her. “You’re not wrong. I know for a _fact_ that I’d fail everyone without her here. There’s a reason I didn’t try to do anything about this war until she was back, and I wasn’t even consciously _trying_. She just has that sort of effect on me, I guess.

“Anyway, try to picture Edelgard and Hubert like that. As their enemy, what would be your first thought if you were asked how to set your enemy back with as little effort as possible?”

“Take out Edelgard or Hubert.” 

“Exactly. It won’t eliminate the problem, but it _will_ set your enemy back by quite a bit, as well as taking a heavy toll on their ability to come up with strategically sound plans. _Now_ let’s imagine you have a personal vendetta against them. Hubert, in particular, was a wild card that you hadn’t counted on when you began making these plans to conquer and pillage, and ever since you met him, he’s been getting in your way and setting you back. If you were smart - and you are - you’d be targeting him, because he’s the one who has personally stood in your way, using your own tools against you.”

“Hubert is the Professor in this scenario of yours?”

“Yeah.” He paused to stir the fennel root in the pot. It wasn’t quite done yet. “So you have a personal vendetta against Hubert. You want him and Edelgard defeated, and the easiest way to do that is to target one of them and make sure they’re dead. Preferably Hubert, in this case. Now imagine that you find out that Edelgard and Hubert have become… romantically involved. How does that change your thinking?”

Hilda didn’t answer right away. “Killing one of them may cause the other to… go crazy? I don’t know.” 

“Basically,” he confirmed. “My first thought is that eliminating one not only severely sets them back logistically, but there’s now a very good chance that emotional vulnerability will drive the survivor to do something reckless, meaning that I can stomp their rebellion out in one swift stroke. So if I was hoping to kill one of them before, it’s almost stupid not to think of doing it now. _Now_ , I might be willing to employ assassins or other such types to get the job done, instead of just relying on battlefield opportunities. _That_ is why I don’t want people knowing.” 

“You really think Edelgard would send assassins?”

“I don’t think Hubert is above it on a regular day. I’d be surprised if he didn’t assassinate his own father when Edelgard took the throne.” 

“He always scared the shit out of me,” Hilda admitted. 

“And for good reason. He’s ruthless. But he’s also unwaveringly loyal to Edelgard. He’ll do whatever he feels he needs to in order for her to succeed, with or without her knowledge.” 

Silence fell between them. Claude stirred the fennel root one more time. It was ready. He grabbed the bowl that the rest of his prepared ingredients were waiting in, and tipped it into the pot. The earthy smell of licorice permeated the room as it steamed and boiled. He pulled the pot off the fire and placed it in a nearby wooden bucket filled with water. 

“When was it?”

“What?”

“The first time.” 

Claude stirred his potion in large circular motions. It was clearing up quickly, becoming the distinct purple colour it should be. “Pass me those empty vials?”

Hilda grabbed the box from the table in front of the couch and handed it over. 

“Thanks.” He grabbed one from the box and began to pour. “It was… just before we retook the Bridge.”

“I had a feeling,” she told him, sitting back with a self-satisfied smile on her face. “She was so upset that day. I’ve never seen her show it like that.” 

He almost forgot that she’d been upset with him. “What did she say?”

“She was just confused. Asked me if I knew anything about you seeing someone, but she could barely get the question out. I asked her why she was asking, and she just couldn’t tell me. I managed to put two and two together when Sylvain showed up and mentioned he’d suggested you get some _stress relief.”_

“Well, I went to make sure she was okay after I finished dinner,” Claude told her, “and one thing led to another…” 

“Seriously? That’s all you’re giving me?” 

“I’m not going to give you all the details as if it was some raunchy romance novel that Seteth purged from the library,” Claude protested. 

“Well, at least give me the _build up_.” 

Claude sighed, but he couldn’t help but smile, too. It had only been a couple of short moons, but already it felt like they’d been seeing each other like this for years. 

“I just went to make sure she was okay,” he started. Poured another few vials in silence. “I don’t know how much you know about her whole goddess business, actually.” 

“Not much, really, besides what happened at the Sealed Forest.” 

“Right. Where to start…” He mulled it over for a few seconds. “Do you remember what she was like when she first started teaching us?” 

“I haven’t thought about it in a while… she’s so different now.” 

“Part of that was the goddess… awakening? I guess that’s the best word to use. Her and the goddess are linked in some way. We think Rhea did something to her when she was born. Part of the reason she was the way she was in the beginning was because she just didn’t feel emotion. She didn’t even have a fucking _heartbeat_.” 

“She didn’t - _how_?” 

“No idea. This whole thing involves a lot of different stuff happening. It would be a lot to explain, and none of it makes any sort of sense.” 

“Wait, but - she doesn’t still…”

“Oh no, she feels now,” Claude chuckled. “But imagine just not feeling anything, and all of a sudden it all comes rushing in. It’s a lot to deal with. Especially when one of the first major emotional events that happens is what happened in Remire. If I recall, that was the night you spotted us outside the meal hall.” 

“I forgot about that. You were really telling me the truth?” 

“It broke my heart to see her like that, but yeah. She was a mess. So much crying. I just sat down next to her and she latched on like her life depended on it. That was when I found out she’d never really felt before. She didn’t know what was happening. So I told her about what she was probably feeling. Since then, when she’s been unsure, she’d come and see me and explain, and I’d give her a name for it.

“Usually it was little things. Happiness. Apprehension. Disappointment. That sort of thing. So... that night, I went to check on her. I asked her if everything was okay, and she - well first she asked me about the woman, and I realized what you meant by me being stupid. You were right, by the way. Please don’t gloat.” 

“Me? Gloat? I would never.” 

They shared a laugh. 

“She then told me she had another feeling she couldn’t name. Told me about it. It was quite clear that she had a few _needs_ that needed taking care of, too, and apparently, _I_ was the problem. So I offered the solution.” 

Hilda giggled at him. “You’ve been waiting _years_ for that, I bet.” 

“I was in a state of disbelief for a few days, that’s for sure. I’m still not sure I believe it,” he agreed. “Now, tell me. What’s going on with Sylvain?” 

“Oh, that?” Hilda shrugged. “He’s _good_. I think it’s more just working out the stress, though. It is for me, anyway. And he doesn’t seem like the ‘settling down’ type.” 

“Well, take a few of these with you, then. I’m not carrying any on me when we go.” He finished putting the stoppers into the last few vials. He turned his pot sideways in the tub, swishing it out with clean water. “Oh, I should let Petra know, too.”

“Petra? I was _right_? No way! We were all too busy trying to get the Professor to talk, I forgot to ask her myself.” Hilda giggled and kicked her feet in excitement. “Oh, I’ll let her know. Let me take a few extra, I’ll just let her have them.” 

“Sure.” He grabbed half a dozen and walked over to Jeralt’s desk, storing them in the drawer with their spare scrap papers and pens. “Why do you guys all still call her that all the time?”

“What do you mean?”

“You don’t need to call Byleth ‘Professor’ all the time anymore.” 

“It’s weird calling her by her name. Maybe it’s different for you, because you’re sticking your-”

“Alright, I get it.” He sighed as he picked up the box of potions. “But really, you can use her name, too. She’d appreciate it.” 

“I’ll… try,” Hilda settled on. 

Claude nodded, making sure his grip was secure on his box of potions. He held it out toward Hilda, who shook her head. 

“I’ll walk with you and grab some when we pass my room,” she told him. 

“Fair enough. Let’s go, then.” 

They walked in silence down the hall and down the steps, stopping only to allow Claude to lock the door behind himself. 

“Hey, Claude?” 

He looked down at Hilda briefly. “What’s up?” 

“This was nice. I know you’re a lonely type, but it’s good to just have a conversation like this. Like proper friends do. We should do this more often. _You_ should do this more often,” she told him. “We worry about you, sometimes. No one can be spending as much time thinking about heavy shit as you do without needing some down time, too.” 

“No promises,” he told her. “Besides, you all may not want to after this fight.”

“Why? Is this about your reinforcements? My brother mentioned something in passing.” 

“Yeah. _That_ , I _really_ can’t share. The less people know, the better. But people may not be thrilled when they find out…” 

She didn’t respond right away. “You’re in a weird mood today.” 

“I am. I don’t know why.” 

“You should take some time for yourself. _Actually_ for yourself. Leave Byleth alone for once.”

“See? Was that so hard?” 

“It was weird.”

“You’ll get used to it.” 

They stopped outside of her door. She unlocked it, then waved him in. He held out the box for her while she pulled bottles out of it - ten in total. “I’ll go take some of these to Petra for you.” 

“Thanks, Hilda.” 

“That’s what friends are for.” 

Claude smiled to himself as he continued down the hall to his own room, the burden on his shoulders measurably lighter. Hilda was right. He should take the rest of the night for himself, so that he’d be ready for the march tomorrow. 

His friends were counting on him, after all. 


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Major violence and gore warning for section 2

The group fell to a hush as a single horse in Imperial colours galloped closer. 

Claude heaved a sigh of relief. It was Dorte, carrying Marianne and Ignatz on his back. He slowed as he approached the group, stopping about ten feet away. Ignatz slid off the saddle, then held out a hand to help Marianne down. She grabbed Dorte’s reins and gently pulled him forward. 

“I delivered our letter to Fort Merceus. I don't think they suspected anything,” Ignatz announced. Instantly, a weighted hush fell over the group. 

“I knew I was right to entrust that task to you. You've got that honest kind of face that makes it easy to fool people.” 

“Is that meant to be a compliment?” 

“What did you write in the letter?” Lysithea asked. 

“I informed them that reinforcements were on the way. It would have been suspicious for troops to show up unannounced.” Claude shifted his weight on his feet absently. “We'll disguise ourselves as reinforcements from the Imperial capital and sneak in to Fort Merceus.”

Hilda clapped a few times, her face splitting into a wide smile. “You used my disguise plan after all!” 

Claude nodded. “We've also procured Imperial army uniforms. However… that alone won’t be enough.” 

“Are you going to dress up like Edelgard, Claude?” Hilda asked. The group laughed a little at the idea - Claude included - so he struck a pose for a moment. Ultimately, though, he shook his head. 

“I'm not sure that would accomplish much,” he admitted. “In the letter, I included the name of the Imperial general leading the reinforcements. While we're heading to the fort, a separate army is going to attack us.”

Marianne suddenly looked panicked. “We're going to be attacked?!”

Claude put his hands out and quickly shook his head. “That's all just for show, though. It'll be our allies who are attacking us.” 

The group seemed to breathe a sigh of relief as one. 

“Right. If we’re going to make this work, then we have work to do,” Judith told them, and they sprang into action. 

They began to talk amongst themselves again, determining who would need what. Too many of them were recognizable at a glance; Imperial uniforms wouldn’t change that. 

Judith handed out uniforms, and then called Ignatz for help. He helped her mix up a few batches of different coloured hair oil, which would hopefully hide the worst of their more vibrantly-coloured and recognizable friends. Hilda had her make-up our, using it to create the illusions of different facial features on a few people. In the meantime, he inspected Sothe’s saddle, made sure Failnaught was secure on its holder, and checked Sothe’s wings and feet to make sure they were in good condition. 

“Claude!” Hilda called after about an hour.

He patted Sothe a few times on the snout before wandering over.

“What do you need?” 

“For you to sit your ass on this stool so I can set you.”

“Set me?”

She nodded. “You’re too dark for an Imperial. They’ll pick you out instantly.” 

He sighed. He thought he’d be safe enough, but she was probably right. 

He sat on the stool in front of her, and she went to work. She slathered cream all over his face and down his neck, then pressed powder in, making him sneeze. His face felt suffocated and heavy. 

“This is  _ awful. _ No wonder Byleth hated it.” 

“Hold on, I’m not done. Close your eyes again.” 

He did, starting a little when he felt little droplets spraying across his nose. She brushed against his cheeks again, then down either side of his nose. 

“Okay. You’re all - don’t touch it, it’ll smudge.” 

Claude opened his eyes as he dropped his hand back into his lap. He was surprised to see Judith standing over Hilda’s shoulder. 

She looked highly amused. “We need to do something with your hair, too, boy. They don’t wear it like that in the south.” 

“I swear I’ve seen-”

“You have that comb still?” Judith asked Hilda, not paying him any mind. “I’ll need some clean hair oil, too.” 

Hilda nodded, handing them off to Judith. 

“Thanks. Take a quick break and deal with your own hair. I’ll tackle this monster.” 

“You sure?” 

Judith nodded, so Hilda brushed past him and went to see Ignatz and Ashe. 

“Just tell me what to do,” Claude said, holding out his hands for the comb and tub of oil, but Judith shook her head. 

“It’ll be quicker and easier if I do it.” 

Claude sat still as she put the comb to his head, then hissed as it pulled his hair. 

“When was the last time you combed your hair, boy?”

“This morning. I’ve been flying, it’s not exactly a -  _ ouch!  _ Can I please just do it myself?” 

Judith gave him a withering look, making him feel very young again. He sighed and pouted, slumping in his seat. 

Judith laughed kindly, then sighed. “ _ That _ look takes me back. I can’t believe how much you’ve grown.” 

“That’s what people do.” 

“Smart ass.” She held out the comb to him. “Hold this for me.”

He took it from her. She pulled the lid off the tub of hair oil and scooped a little out before passing him that, too. Once both hands were otherwise free, she rubbed the oil into her palms and began combing it into his hair with her fingers. 

“Your hair is so dry.” 

“I know. It’s less frizzy here, though. You have to take the good with the bad.” 

She gave him another look, but didn’t comment. “Comb.”

He handed it back, and she combed his hair back off his face again, before parting it slightly off-centre and combing it down the sides and behind his ears. It took only a few moments, and then she stood back to admire her work. 

Claude frowned at the look on his mother’s face. “Uh, Judith? You okay?” 

She sighed, her breath catching in her throat. “You look so much like Godfrey,” she murmured. She stepped back in and combed some of the hair on one side of his face more forward, then combed it back behind his ear again. “Your hairline is really low compared to the rest… nothing we can do about that. It shouldn’t be enough to give you away, anyway. Alright, boy. I think you’re done.” 

“Do I get to see myself, at least?” 

“Sure. Here,” she answered him, ducking down to grab a small looking glass on the ground next to the stool and handing it to him. He took a deep breath before focusing on it. 

His face was a significantly lighter shade than was natural, but not as pale as he expected. Hilda had somehow made him look like he was just a sun-kissed Imperial. She had managed to narrow the look of his nose, as well as spattering it with some freckles, and then dusted across the bridge and his sharpened cheekbones with the faintest hint of pink. She’d even packed some red powder into the beard along the edge of his jaw, making it look a little more fair against his lighter skin tone.

“She did a really good job, but if I don’t ever have to do this again, I’ll be happy.” He handed his mother the mirror back. “Do I really look so much like Uncle Godfrey like this?” 

She put it back down where she found it. “You really do. I always thought you were a spitting image of your father, but it turns out you got some of me, after all.” 

Claude wished he could hug her; she looked like she could use it. He looked at her, hoping his eyes would ask for him, and she shook her head and turned away.

“You’re all done, boy. Let’s get this over with.” 

“Right. Don’t hold back too much. We need it to be convincing.”

“We’ll do what we have to.” 

Claude nodded and slid off the stool. 

“Khalid?” Judith turned around to look at him again, just for a moment. Her eyes were red with tears. “Don’t you dare die on me in there.” 

“I wish I could tell you I won’t, but this is war, Mother,” he answered her quietly. Her shoulders shook as she tried to contain herself. “But I’ll have good, reliable support. The chances are slim. That, I can promise you.” 

She turned away again and nodded. “Give me a few minutes.” 

Claude swallowed past the lump in his throat and left her, heading back toward Sothe and his classmates. 

Ignatz and Ashe were working on combing blackened hair oil into Marianne’s hair. Lorenz had evidently refused, pulling half of his hair off of his face into a haphazard bun. He had a helmet under his arm. Leonie’s hair was left loose, tucked behind her ears. It looked more like someone had rubbed dirt into her hair than a coloured hair oil. Raphael had combed some of the blackened oil into his hair and sideburns. Petra had forgone oil and braided and then coiled her hair at the base of her neck. Her assassin’s uniform came equipped with a deep hood, so that would be sufficient for her. Hilda’s hair had been blackened, then braided and wound around the crown of her head like a halo. Lysithea had rubbed dirt into her hair, as well, her usual hair accessories gone. Sylvain was in the process of combing some oil into his hair, covering the fiery red as he pulled it off to the side like Claude’s. 

“Woah,” he commented as Claude walked past. “I thought someone snuck into our camp.” 

“Thank Hilda.” 

“Hm? Did someone - oh.” Hilda giggled a little. “You look so funny without the-”

Claude cut her off with a look.

“Anyway… where’s Judith?” 

“Give her a minute,” was all he said. He started to continue walking, but Hilda waved at him. 

She jogged over to him and handed him a scrap of cloth. “Here, take this.” 

“What is it?” 

“Once we’re in there and the fighting starts, you can wipe most of the makeup off with it. I had to go heavy on it for you, it may melt and get into your eyes as you start sweating.” 

“Oh. Thank you.” He took the rag from her, folding it up a few times and sticking it down the side of his boot before he finally walked back to Sothe. 

Byleth was standing at Sothe’s side now. She wore an Imperial assassin’s uniform, a wo dao and a silver sword on her back. Her hair was blackened with the oil, as well, braided tightly right from the front of her head down the back, tied off at the nape of her neck. 

“Ready to go?” he asked her as he approached. She spun around to look at him, her eyes going wide for a moment before she snorted. A hand came up to shield her mouth as she no doubt broke into giggles. He shook his head at her. “Not a word, you.” 

“You look so…  _ local _ . It’s weird.” 

“If our lives didn’t depend on it…” 

“True enough. Need a hand with your uniform?” 

“I won’t say no,” he answered her. He began to remove his outer layers without much thought, folding them hastily and tucking them away in one of Sothe’s saddle bags. Someone whistled scandalously from their group, and he threw up a rude hand gesture without looking, making everyone laugh. “Tunic?” 

Byleth passed him the leather tunic. He pulled it on and swung his arms in front of his chest, crossing them. Or trying to, at least. He couldn’t even press his palms together. 

“This is way too snug. Is there something a little larger?” 

Byleth held her hand out. He took the leather off with difficulty and handed it back. She laid it out on top of a cloth padded under layer, then shook her head. 

“Best I could do is the cloth. It’ll have a little more give, hopefully.” 

“Sure,” he agreed. She handed it over and he pulled it on, testing it the same way. It was better, but still not great. “Hand me that bow?” 

She handed him the steel bow he’d be carrying in, and he held it high, pulling on the string.  _ Well, I can shoot in this one, at least. I’ll have to take it.  _

He dropped the bow on the ground at his side. “Good. What do I have for outer?” 

“Well, if you’re going cloth, you’ll have to do chain or scale mail.” She put his discarded leather over the chain and shook her head, then put it over the scale and nodded. “Scale it is.” 

She held it high over her head, and he stepped underneath it, sticking his arms in and finding the arm holes. Byleth helped him pull it down over his head, then checked the clasps at his sides to make sure they were set correctly. 

“Aright, you’re good,” she told him after only a minute or so. “Then it’s just the tabard, and you’re all set. You should be able to get it on yourself. If you can’t, we’ll need to change your mail.” 

He sighed, but held his hand out for it. She handed it off. He unfolded it and pulled it over his head with relative ease, and Byleth nodded. 

“Don’t forget your gloves.” 

He put them on, too, and then grabbed his bow from the ground and held it up, aiming it again at a nearby tree. He worried about his accuracy, but there was little he could do. 

“I need a quiver and my sword belt,” he told her. She looked around them, but they were nowhere to be found. 

“Where…”

He frowned, but then ducked beneath Sothe’s chest. Byleth followed him around the other side, where they’d be shielded from the gaze of the others. 

He unclipped the belt from Sothe’s saddle. His quiver and sword were still attached to it, making it a little harder to put on than usual, especially in unfamiliar armour. Byleth reached out to help him position and buckle it in place. 

“Does it feel okay?” she asked him. He nodded as he shouldered the steel bow. She sighed. “Claude, I…I need you to be careful in there. I won’t be able to see you, which means I won’t be able to help you if something goes wrong.  _ Please _ be careful.” 

“I always am.” 

“I mean it,” she insisted. Her eyes were haunted as she looked at him. He remembered how she had mentioned that he’d died at Gronder, and suddenly, he wondered exactly how many times she’d seen him fall. “I can’t do this alone, Claude. Please don’t leave me to do this alone.” 

“I won’t.” 

“Promise?”

“You know I can’t do that, By.” 

She was quiet for a few seconds, then sighed again. “I know.” 

He wanted to draw her in, hold her for just a moment, but he was afraid of dirtying his tabard. Instead, he peeled a glove off and placed his hand on her cheek. She leaned into it with worried eyes. “I’ll have your mercenaries, and my father and his best watching my back. I’ve got the best chances I could have, short of having you at my side. Try not to worry too much about me. The others will need you focused.” 

Byleth nodded. “Judith told me the Death Knight is in command of the fort now. Just… don’t get caught up with him one-on-one, okay?” She sighed, then looked at her feet as she backed up a couple of steps. 

“ _T_ _ hat _ , I can promise.” His hand fell back to his side. 

She tried to smile, but it was strained. Forced. “We’ll see you soon,” she finally murmured. He nodded, and then she turned her back and walked away, her hand trailing down Sothe’s flank as she circled around her tail and back to the others. 

Claude replaced his glove and turned to check on Sothe one last time. All of her saddle buckles were locked in place, and Failnaught was immovable in its holder. The whistle he used to call her from a distance was secure around his neck.

“Hey, girl.” 

Sothe turned her head to look at him.

“You remember what we’re doing?” 

She  _ cooed _ at him, pressing the end of her nose into his chest. He stroked up between her eyes a few times. 

“Fly high, and don’t come down until you hear me call you. For anything. Understand?” 

She pushed her nose into his chest again, making him stumble back a step. 

“I know, girl, but we’re both too recognizable. It’s for your safety as much as mine.” 

She  _ cooed _ again, leaving her snout against his chest for another few seconds. Finally, she pulled back and looked skyward, unfurling her wings. Claude backpedalled quickly to avoid the eddies from her wings as she lifted off, soaring high. Before long, she was gone, her white scales reflecting sunlight and leaving her invisible in the morning sky. 

He brushed his gloves down the front of his tabard and made his way across the camp to where Byleth’s mercenaries were waiting for him. He could overhear the others going over their strategy as he walked. 

“...Knight will be there. It is imperative that we take him down. Crippling their command chain needs to be our priority.” 

“I’ll handle it, Professor.”

“Thank you. Hilda, Lorenz, Leonie, I’ll need you to keep Lysithea safe as she pushes in to reach him-” 

“Hey there, boss!” 

Claude’s attention was drawn away from Byleth and the others by one of her mercenaries. As he looked up at them, they all turned to watch him approach. 

“Thanks for doing this,” Claude said as he closed the distance. 

“Where the Cap’n commands us, we go,” another one of the mercs answered him. 

They were all outfitted in their own armour; thankfully, theirs was more generic, meaning they only needed the Imperial tabards to complete their disguise. 

“Right. Are we ready to march?” 

The mercs banged their weapons on the ground, against shields, against heavy breastplates. It was an intimidating sound. 

“Let’s give ‘em hell, boss!” 

Claude took one last look at his friends over his shoulder, and then he squared his shoulders. 

“Let’s form up, then. We haven’t got time to waste.” 

  
  


* * *

  
  
  


Claude smiled at his father as he put his sword away. The sonorous cries of his people cheering their reunion was more comforting than he expected it to be. 

Nader slid easily out of his horse’s saddle. Another soldier slid from the back of a horse nearby and claimed it without prompting. 

Nader looked at him critically. “What in the House of Lies did they do to you, kiddo?” 

“I just need to look Imperial enough to make it inside.” 

“You look like your mother like that.”

“More like her brother, apparently. Come on, we don’t have time to stand around.” 

He turned his back and made to rejoin Byleth’s mercenaries. They looked a little concerned.

“Boss? Everything good?” 

“What, not happy with the reinforcements?” he asked, nervous.

“I don’t think any of us care who they are or where they’re from, but we  _ do _ care that they decided to attack you first.” 

“Why? That was the plan.” 

“It was - right. Forgot about that part. Actually, didn’t think that part would apply to us.” 

“It didn’t, really. But it won’t hurt.”

The mercenary nodded. “Right. Keep moving, lads!”

They continued marching, then. Claude slowed so that his father could catch up. 

“Those aren’t soldiers,” Nader commented.

Claude shook his head. “Mercenaries. Byleth’s.” 

“Wouldn’t it have been smarter to bring some of your mother’s people? They’d play the part more easily.” 

“We’re coming in from the Imperial side with ‘new recruits’,” Claude informed him. “They  _ shouldn’t _ look like much.” 

Nader nodded. They walked in silence for a few more seconds, and then Claude caught him reaching for his whistle to call his wyvern.

“Not yet,” Claude warned him. “Wait until we’re inside.” 

Nader looked at him with a deadly scowl. “You aren’t King yet, boy.” 

“Not officially, but I  _ am _ the one leading this whole army. An army that you are now a part of,” Claude reminded him, his tone firm. Nader stared him down in silence for a few more seconds. Claude sighed. His father’s wyvern wasn’t as stand-out as Sothe was. “Fine. Whenever.” 

Nader, however, shook his head and put his whistle away. “No, you make a good point. Even if Griffon doesn’t look any different to the others, a saddled wyvern dropping out of the sky will draw unwelcome attention.” 

They were getting close; Claude could see the grate of the bars over the gates. “I need to get up front. Once the gate closes behind us inside, you can call Griffon.” 

“Got it.” Nader reached up and grabbed Claude’s shoulder before he could take off. “Take care, son. Play your part well. Lives depend on it.” 

“I won’t forget.” He waited until Nader’s hand dropped from his shoulder, and then he picked up his pace. He spoke again once he was in amongst Byleth’s mercs again. “Alright, we’re almost there. We need to look like we’re carrying urgent information, but not like we’re fleeing.” 

“Let the boss through!” someone called from the back. They all parted to let him get up to the front, and then he set their pace. 

Claude’s heart began to race as they approached the gates. 

“Halt!” a voice rang out from atop the wall above when they were about thirty feet away. Claude held a hand up, and the company at his back stopped marching. “State your business!” 

“Officer Hrothving, sir,” Claude shouted back. “I’ve come to deliver the new recruits out of Rusalka territory.”

“You were supposed to be joining reinforcements from Enbarr, soldier.” 

Claude sucked in a deep breath. “We were ambushed by a faction of the Alliance army near the south gate, sir. I was sent ahead with the recruits to seek help. They need to be let in, and quickly, before the Alliance overwhelms them.” 

Silence fell over them for almost thirty seconds as the officer on the wall above walked away. Claude was about to reach for his bow when the sound of metal  _ clanking _ and  _ creaking _ broke the silence. 

“Enter. Quickly.” 

“Yes, sir!” Claude called back, heaving a relieved sigh. He put a hand up and gestured forward, then began walking. The sounds of boots against stone told him the rest had started moving, too. 

He had barely stepped foot beneath the gate when he heard the first scuffle on the wall above. He turned around to look behind himself, and found two of his father’s wyvern knights perched above them, watching. Claude kept moving, staying at the head of the group. 

“Boss?” one of the mercs asked behind him. 

“I need some space to call my wyvern,” he told them. “Let me get a visual on the situation. Until I give any other orders, don’t charge in. If anyone comes your way, keep it clean and quiet. We need to keep this as hushed as possible until the others are in.” 

“You got it.” 

“Wait a second, boy. Let me.” 

Claude turned around. Nader was pushing his way through the mercenaries.

“You sure?”

Nader nodded, then pulled his whistle out again, blasting it. It was silent, too high pitched for any of them to hear, but the sound of a distant wyvern roar was just audible over the din. 

“They see yours, they know you’re here. They see mine, they think something’s off, but don’t know what. It’ll buy you time.” 

Claude nodded. “Thank you.” 

Griffon nosedived into the keep, opening his wings at the last possible second to slow his descent. He still managed to crash into the stone floor. 

“You reckless shit,” Nader commented before jogging over to Griffon’s side. “You’re going to actually hurt yourself one of these days doing that.” 

Griffon huffed a sigh and shook himself off. Nader swung up into his saddle easily and urged Griffon back into the sky. Griffon roared, unfurled his wings once more, and shot back up into the air. 

Claude anxiously watched his father circling overhead. He came back down after about a minute. 

“They’re in!” he shouted. “Call your wyvern, boy. It’s time to make some noise.” 

“You heard the man!” Claude called to the army at his back. They roared their approval in return, and took up battle positions. 

Claude pulled his whistle from underneath his mail and blew into it with as much air as he could, carefully timing out the unique pattern that Sothe would know was meant for her. Another draconic scream sounded high overhead. Claude ripped his tabard off, using it to scrub at his face for a few seconds to remove the worst of the makeup Hilda had put on him. 

The leathery sound of wings catching wind caught his attention just as he pulled his tabard away from his face. He threw it on the ground without thought as he ran toward where Sothe was landing. She instantly crouched in her mount position, and he swung into the saddle easily. 

Now, he could hear the shouting and the panic of the Imperial soldiers inside the keep. His father had been right. They’d recognized Sothe, and now they knew they were under attack. 

“ _ Yip yip! _ ” 

Sothe roared and took to the skies again, hovering near Nader and Griffon, looking out for the others near the south gate. Claude held tight with his knees and buckled his legs into the saddle as they climbed. 

Claude frowned, steeling himself as he came to hover near his father. “An impregnable fortress is a wide-open prairie once you get inside. From here, we'll attack from the north and south at once!”

“No different than a prairie, you say? Heh! You've got a strange head on your shoulders, kiddo.”

“For Nader the Undefeated, this should be as easy as a walk in a meadow, right?” Claude countered. 

Nader huffed out a laugh. “Well, goddess or death god or whoever they may be, let's crush them to dust.”

“Uh, no goddess crushing, please. She’s on  _ our _ side.” 

It was hard to tell from this distance - and with their disguises - exactly who was who down on the ground by the south gate. Thankfully, those of them with Relics had reclaimed them from where they were hidden on horses, so he had an idea. 

Speaking of goddesses… Byleth, as always, was at the head of the charge. He saw her lash out with the Sword of the Creator, the chain unlocked as it whipped through a score of Imperial soldiers. Dark magic blossomed from within their ranks, but died out quickly, overwhelmed by an Aura cast by - most likely - Marianne. His stomach turned as he spotted two Black Beasts among the enemy ranks.

“Archers!” Nader called out, just as Sothe rolled out of the way of an arrow that went whistling by. 

She took them lower. Claude freed Failnaught from its holder on the saddle and grabbed an arrow, nocking it and pulling on the string with practiced ease. He found his mark, took a steadying breath, and let his arrow loose. It flew true, piercing the soldier through the eye slot in his helmet. 

“Nice shot!” his father called as the man crumpled in place. He aimed and let loose an arrow of his own, taking down another enemy in similar fashion. 

It took no time for the adrenaline to take over. These soldiers weren’t green; they were seasoned, and fresh, fighting on familiar grounds. Claude fought hard, the scent of blood and refuse around him blocked out by the simple need to survive. 

He was pulled back into the present by the sound of a familiar voice.

“Claude von Riegan. It’s a shame we have to meet again this way.” 

Claude frowned as he focused on the man speaking to him. “It’s not too late, Linhardt. There’s nothing saying you can’t walk away from this.”

“I’d rather not fight,” Linhardt admitted with a sigh, “yet avoiding it is more frustrating and fruitless than engaging in the battle itself.” 

Claude sighed, too. “I’m sorry, then, Linhardt.” 

“As am I, Claude.” 

Linhardt began to cast, his hands conjuring the runic circle that would drain Claude of his life energy. Sothe spun out of the way, and Claude nocked an arrow, frowning deeply as he pulled back the string and let it loose. 

Time almost seemed to slow down as his arrow slammed into Linhardt’s chest. Linhardt’s eyes went wide, and he crumpled as blood began to pool around the wooden shaft protruding from his heart. 

_ “No!” _ Claude heard, too late. Before he knew what was happening, a streak of blue shot forward toward them, and then Sothe screamed in what could only be agonizing pain. 

Claude’s vision went red. Sothe snapped at her attacker, but only managed to catch part of his armour between her teeth. She whipped her head to the side, tossing the man fifteen feet to her right. He skidded across the stone floor, his heavy armour sparking as he slid. His bloodied axe was still gripped tightly in hand as he tried to stand. 

Claude didn’t give him the chance. One, two, three arrows, rapid-fire, flew from Failnaught, making their mark. The first slammed into Caspar’s shoulder between the plates of his armour, making him stumble again as he tried to stand. The second slammed into his chest, in the same place as Linhardt, caving his breastplate. The third pierced his throat. 

Claude could feel Sothe’s laboured breathing between his knees. She was crying, shaking, scared. She flapped her wings desperately. 

“ _ Wyvern down! _ ” Nader called from nearby, his voice booming. “Khalid! You need to keep fighting! She’s got a chance, but if you get overwhelmed, you’re done for!” 

“Right,” Claude answered under his breath. “Hold on, girl. Come on. Stay with me.”

His hands shook as he nocked another arrow. He tried to focus, but with Sothe’s breathing being so erratic, it was hard to aim. He was used to a certain rise and fall. 

He shot off a few arrows. They hit their marks, but his aim was slightly off. After what felt like an eternity, he reached back to find an empty quiver. 

Sothe’s breathing was coming in shallower and rougher. Her head hung close to the ground, and he could see how much of her blood had been spilt on the stone. 

“Sothe? I know it hurts, girl, but help is coming. Stay with me, please,” he almost sobbed. His hands reached absently for the buckles against his legs as he put Failnaught back in its holder. 

He jerked forward as her legs gave out beneath her. “No! Sothe, come on,  _ please _ -”

She cried again, the sound weak and tired. Claude was about to shout for help again when he felt the warmth of healing magic beneath him. Sothe’s scales almost seemed to glow as the magic wrapped her up, and she came back to life, picking her chest up off the ground and throwing her wings out in defiance of the death that had almost claimed her. 

“That’s my girl,” Claude laughed, relief and gratitude overwhelming him for a moment. He found a spot on her neck that he could reach and patted it a few times, then dried his face with the back of his hand. “I’m out of arrows. It’s sword time. Are you ready?” 

She threw her head forward and roared, spraying the approaching Imperial soldiers with bloody spittle. A good number of them backpedalled when she did, the terror clear on their faces. She wasted no time in pouncing on them. 

Claude pulled his sword from his belt and threw himself into the fight with renewed frenzy. Sothe was aggressive in a way that he’d never seen before. She lunged, biting a man, her fangs piercing him straight through, before then throwing him against the wall to her left. She used her tail like a club, swinging it wildly at anything that came too close. Her wings battered nearby enemies in wild sweeps. Any soldiers who made it past her were met by Claude’s sword. 

A sharp pain in Claude’s thigh made him shout, and Sothe roared again, battering away the nearby Imperial soldiers and then sending them skyward. Claude looked down at his leg to see a javelin sticking out of it, the tip piercing him clean through the muscle and emerging dangerously close to his side. 

_ Fuck. Too dense to break it off, I’ll have to pull it out. Don't think I can do this myself.  _

He took the chance to survey the scene below while he was high in the air. Both of the Black Beasts were dead, and his friends had left a sea of dead Imperials in their wake. 

_ Is that… _ He could swear that was the Death Knight fleeing, below him. Byleth was hot on his heels, with many of the others retreating back toward the south gate.

Sothe dipped into a nosedive before he could direct her to, bringing them to a halt in Byleth’s path. He held his left hand out to her, and she grabbed it, hauling herself up into the saddle with him. Sothe barely waited for her to get settled before taking flight again. 

“Hold this,” Byleth shouted in his ear. Her left hand was fisted into his side, her right holding the Sword of the Creator out for him. He quickly put his own sword away and took it from her. It cooled in his grip instantly. 

He looked over Sothe’s side to try to keep track of the Death Knight, but he jerked and shouted as pain lanced through his thigh again. He almost dropped the Sword in shock. The pain lasted only a few more seconds, though, as he felt the warmth of Byleth’s healing begin to knit his torn skin and muscle back together. 

He sighed in relief. He caught movement from the corner of his eye, and saw her throw the javelin way out over the edge of the fortress below and into the wilderness. Once her hand was free, he held the Sword of the Creator back out for her to take from him again. 

“There!” Claude pointed beneath them. The Death Knight’s horse looked to be struggling to keep up its pace, and the Death Knight himself was slouched in the saddle. He had left the fort, and appeared to be heading away from the village, too, up on the high wall at the village’s edge. “Where is he going?”

“He said that if we wanted to kill him, we’d have to follow him,” Byleth answered. “I think he’s got a plan of some sort. He mentioned something about ‘the appointed hour’ or something like that. I told the others to take our remaining forces and go back to meet Judith again.”

Claude frowned, pulling on the reins to direct Sothe downward. “He's hiding something... It's annoying to do what he's telling us to, but we don't really have a choice, do we?” 

He looked beneath them again. It was hard to tell, but he thought all of their friends had finally cleared the outer wall of the fort in their retreat. He levelled out Sothe’s descent, then turned her back so he could signal his father to follow them. 

Thankfully, his father was already gathering up those of their allies still left in the fort and directing them to follow him out. Claude waved his thanks, and then took off after the Death Knight once more. 

The Death Knight had stopped on a wide portion of the outer wall, where it ringed the village attached to the fort. He had fresh soldiers at his back; where they’d come from, Claude had no idea. A few of their own forces were standing at the other end of the wall. Neither were making a move. 

Claude cautiously touched Sothe down, and Byleth let him go, sliding out of the saddle and stepping forward into the empty space between the armies. The Death Knight clopped forward a few steps on his horse, as well. 

“It is coming,” the Death Knight stated, his voice tinny and monotone beneath his skull-shaped helmet. “Leave now, or all of you will die.”

He spurred his horse to the edge of the wall, leaping down over the side. Byleth tried to give chase, but he was gone before she could take more than a few steps. She looked down over the side at him, and then turned around, a confused frown knotting her brow. 

Claude followed her gaze. He didn’t see what caused it, but he could feel the wave of energy from the explosion. Sothe  _ yelped _ and jumped backward. 

“Run! We have to evacuate immediately!” Claude thought he heard a soldier yell, but he couldn’t be sure. His hearing felt like it was a little fuzzy. 

Little rings of blue light began to appear in the sky, almost creating a tunnel toward the village at their feet. Within the tunnel, a - what  _ was _ that? A javelin? Why was it burning like that? 

It hit the ground, and this time, Claude could feel the heat, too, as it exploded. Sothe pulled her wings in tight and crouched; he feared what would have happened had she tried to fly. 

His ears rang with the force of the blast, but after a few seconds, sound began to filter through again. Sothe stood up tall, shaking her wings out. Byleth was walking back toward him. 

“We need to get away from here,” she told him. He nodded, holding out his hand again to help her up. This time, she’d put her Sword away on her hip, and she wrapped her arms around his waist. 

“Be careful,” he told the few soldiers up on the wall with them. “Find a way down, and meet us back at the main camp.” 

A soldier saluted him. Claude returned it, and then urged Sothe back into the air. 

Byleth didn’t say anything to him while they flew. He was too busy trying to sort out exactly what he’d just seen to say much of anything to her, either. What the  _ fuck _ had just happened? The fort and the village, as they flew over, were in absolute ruins.  _ Nothing _ should have been able to deal that kind of damage in only two strikes. What kind of magic was it? Was this something those mages Lysithea had told them about did? If so, they needed to do more research, and fast. 

They touched down, finally, on the outer edge of the camp. Soldiers were trickling back in. Claude leaned over to each side, unbuckling the last of his leg straps that he hadn’t got to before Sothe was healed, and then he slid out of the saddle, holding a hand out to help Byleth down. 

She took it, stepping down easily. She let him go as soon as her feet were both on solid ground. 

“How’s your leg?” 

“It’s fine. A little tender, but a hot meal and a hot bath will fix that.” He looked past her to Sothe. She was covered in blood, both her own and that of her foes. Claude stepped around Byleth to check her for any remaining injuries. 

Sothe  _ cooed _ at him, and pressed her snout into his chest, just like she had that morning. He threw his arms around her snout and cried for a minute or so. 

“What happened?” Byleth asked him quietly.

“Caspar,” Claude answered simply. He swallowed thickly and let Sothe go. She flattened herself on the ground and began to rub her snout and chest into the grass, trying to get a little cleaner. 

Claude turned around to face Byleth. She was covered in filth, too. The oil had kept her hair coloured, but it was starting to come loose around the edges, with flyaways sticking to her face. He choked on a sob again. She stepped in a little closer, and he acted without thought, grabbing her shoulder and pulling her into a rough embrace. 

She held him tightly. He put his cheek on the top of her head, not caring if the hair oil stuck to his face. He held her for almost a minute, too, until his tears ran dry for the moment. 

When his grip loosened, Byleth let him go. “Do you have a spare cloth or something?”

Claude had completely forgotten about the rag Hilda had given him. It was still in his boot. He reached down and grabbed it, unfolding it with a flick of his wrist. He draped it over his palms and then scrubbed at his face and neck. “Better?” he asked as he pulled it away. 

Byleth smiled at him and nodded. “There’s the face I adore.” 

“Hey, kiddo!”

Claude turned around to see Griffon sniffing at Sothe nearby, and his father approaching them on foot. Byleth took a step forward to stand at Claude’s side. 

Nader stopped a few feet away from them. “What was with that… javelin of… light?” 

Claude sighed and shook his head. “Javelin of light... That describes it pretty well.”  _ The fortress was supposedly impregnable, but look at it now. _ “It's hard to imagine that the Empire would do something like that. But if not them, then who? And for what purpose? If they wanted to kill us, then why wait until now to use it?”

Judith joined them, stepping up from Byleth’s other side and crossing her arms. “We almost died just now... and without an answer to any of that. Speaking of unanswered questions, why is Nardel here? Care to explain? I get the feeling there's something you two are keeping from us.”

Claude shot his father a look. Had he not told her, either? 

“Well, he’s-”

Nader cut him off. “I'll go ahead and see the rest of my subordinates across the border, kiddo.” 

“Wait. Nader! Are you really going to just leave me here and run away?” Claude protested as his father tried to backpedal away. 

“It was good to see you, Judith-”

“Oh no you don’t,” Judith almost growled as she made to follow him. “I left my territory under your protection, and I intend to find out how you’ve left it protected while you came out here to play war with the boy.” 

“I have a highly capable retainer-”

“I require  _ details _ , Nader.” 

Claude saw his father give her a wicked smile before turning on his heel to walk with her. “As you wish.” 

“Wait,” Byleth finally murmured next to him. “Nader. The Undefeated?”

“Yeah.”

“ _ He’s  _ your father?”

“Yeah.” 

She blinked rapidly a few times. “Isn’t he the King of Almyra?” 

Claude grimaced, but he nodded. 

“Which makes you an Almyran prince. Do you have siblings?” 

“No. Just me. Well, maybe after tonight I will,” he mused. “It’s been a long time since they’ve actually seen each other.” 

“Everything suddenly makes so much sense,” she whispered to herself. 

Claude’s stomach exploded with nervous butterflies. “Is that a problem?” 

“It doesn’t change who you are, does it?” she asked him in response. “No, just… well, now that I  _ really _ know your pedigree, your strength of body and spirit make a lot of sense, that’s all. Plus, now I get to add  _ Your Highness _ to the list of titles for you.” 

“Please don’t,” he pleaded, but he laughed with her, the worst of his anxiety eased for the moment. “Let’s go meet the others and make sure they’re okay. Will you…”

He didn’t finish his thought, but evidently, he didn’t need to. Byleth nodded. “I’m here for whatever you need. Just tell me what I can and can’t talk about.” 

“Thank you.” He rolled his shoulders and his neck, then gestured toward the centre of the camp. “Let’s see if we can’t wash all this makeup and hair colour away, too. My skin still feels like it’s drowning.” 

  
  


* * *

  
  
  


Claude sat on a log next to Byleth in front of the fire as she brushed her hair dry, the familiar tea green dull from the black dye it had absorbed. Ignatz assured them that it would be gone completely after a few more washes. 

He watched the flames dance in front of them, his bowl of simple stew pinched between his knees. A few of their other friends were across the flames from them, deep in their own conversation. The rest were likely still trying to get clean. 

“What should we do, By?” he asked her finally, breaking their comfortable silence. “I wanted to just hold Fort Merceus, wait for the rest of the Almyran army to cross and meet us, and push into Enbarr.” 

“Can’t do that anymore,” she answered him. “We’ve got no choice but to go back to at  _ least _ the Bridge, at which point, we may as well go back to the monastery, but… It’s hard to decide. I don’t want to risk any other places, and we don’t know how those things funct-”

She fell silent suddenly, and her eyes glossed over, her entire face going slack. Claude sucked in a shocked breath; he hadn’t seen that happen in years. It only lasted a second, and then she was blinking again, focusing on him. 

“We’ll be safe at the monastery.” 

“You’re sure?” 

“Absolutely.” 

Claude frowned. “What just happened? You did that thing again…”

“I - she didn’t  _ speak _ to me, but I just had this feeling. The monastery is safe from them. I guess there’s a reason they didn’t target us there.” 

Claude nodded. “Back to the monastery it is, then.” 

“I have questions for you, Claude.” 

Lorenz didn’t wait for an invitation to sit. His hair was still pulled back off his face… the same way Linhardt’s had been. Claude shook his head to clear the image.

“Do not shake your head at me. I  _ will _ have answers.” 

Claude sighed. “And you’ll get them, Lorenz. Relax.”

“Why is an Almyran general here with an army?” 

“Really? That’s your question? We don’t have the strength without them here. We all know that. We have more coming to meet us before we push into Enbarr.” 

“And  _ how _ do you know this Almyran general?” 

“He-”

“Hasn’t the day been long enough, Gloucester boy?”

Lorenz rounded on Judith as she approached, but lost some of his composure in her presence. “This could prove disastrous-”

“Or, it could save our asses. Don’t decide the outcome before it happens. You’re lucky they consider you a friend, or I’d push to have you tried for insubordination.” 

“Insub-” Lorenz scoffed, but he must have known he’d get nothing else out of them. He stood and walked around the other side of the fire to join some of the others, plunking down heavily next to Leonie. 

Judith shook her head and sat where he’d just been. “Are you  _ sure _ that boy is better than his father?” 

“It doesn’t always look like it, but yes.” He took a good look at his mother. She looked tired. “How are they settling in?” 

“Just fine. Byleth’s men had to shut down a few complaints at first, but once they started drinking, they seemed to move past it.” She looked past Claude toward Byleth for a moment, then focused on him again. “So what are you telling them?” 

“About the Almyrans?” 

“Nader.” 

Claude turned away from her to look into the fire. “The truth, I guess. If he’s okay with it, anyway. It’s about time I told them my plan for when this is over. I’ve been trying to find a time…” 

“And what will you tell them about your mother?” 

Claude snorted. “Probably that she’s running the country in my father’s absence.” 

A weight seemed to lift from Judith’s shoulders. “We’ll see how long that lasts.” She laughed quietly, and Claude laughed with her. Her voice was low when she continued. “None of these soldiers recognize me, but that doesn’t mean none of them that are coming over will. I suppose I’d better be ready for word to get out.” 

“I don’t know that they will, anyway,” Claude told her. “You look  _ very _ different than you did before you left to come back here. They may just think Father’s become restless and lonely. And then they’ll fear the day Tiana finds out about it.” 

That had Judith laughing properly. “I hadn’t heard that name in years before today. Thanks, boy. I hope you’re right.” 

“Right about what?”

Judith sighed and shook her head as Nader approached them. He stopped at the edge of the fire, putting his hands on his hips as he surveyed the three of them on the log. 

“We just secured a  _ major _ victory, Khalid. Regardless of what happened with those  _ things  _ falling out of the sky, we successfully captured an uncapturable fort. You should be celebrating!” 

“We lost people today, Father. Innocents died. I had to kill old friends. Also, it’s Claude here.” 

“Your mother and I didn’t give you that name for nothing, boy. Now that  _ I’m _ out in the open, I’m going to act like it. And those  _ friends _ of yours almost killed your wyvern. Have you already forgotten that?” 

Claude sighed and hung his head. 

“Leave it, Nader. The boy isn’t as bloodthirsty as you.” 

“And it’s a good thing, too. Just think of the destruction he could cause, with a head like his on his shoulders.” Nader stepped away from the edge of the fire, cutting in front of them and claiming the empty space on the log at Byleth’s side. “It’s good to see you again, Lady Byleth.” 

“You too, Nader. And just Byleth is fine.” 

“How many did we lose today?” Claude asked. 

“A few dozen from the vanguard,” Nader answered immediately. “Only about half a dozen are unaccounted for from your mercenary crew, Byleth.” 

“They told me.” She put her comb down finally, putting her fingers to her scalp and ruffling her hair. “We lost a lot of the soldiers who came into the Fort with us - half or more.” 

“Those of us attacking you lost a few dozen ourselves.” 

Claude turned to look at Judith with a frown. “How?” 

“Imperials in the Fort ‘helping’. Nothing malicious among your soldiers.” 

“Good.” 

“Hey, is there any food left? I’m starving.” 

Judith scoffed. “Didn’t your wyvern catch you a stag?”

“Yeah, but he only left me with a leg, and I had to share it with my men,” Nader answered her. “Wyverns eat a lot, Judith. Especially after a fight.” 

“And especially  _ yours _ ,” Claude heard Judith murmur beside him. She stood with a quiet groan. “My men may have some stew left. You’re coming with me to get it, though.” 

Nader pushed himself to his feet, too, walking around behind them. He clapped both Claude and Byleth on the shoulder at the same time, leaning down closer to their ears. “You  _ can _ celebrate success despite the losses, kids. Those soldiers knew what they were in for. Don’t disrespect their deaths. They died so that more could live.” He didn’t wait for a response, taking his hands back and walking away without another word. 

Claude sighed. “He’s right. But it’s not easy to do.” 

Byleth shook her head. “It never is.” She looked at him in silence for about five seconds, her jade green eyes calm. “Are you done your food? Maybe we can go find somewhere to watch the sky in peace for a bit before bed. I’m sure tomorrow will be just as long as today with all the questioning you’ll have to endure.” 

Claude smiled at her. For as long as he lived, he hoped the sight of her never stopped taking his breath away. 

“That sounds wonderful.” 

  
  


* * *

  
  
  


Claude woke slowly to the feeling of gentle fingers combing through his hair. 

He frowned. There was a comfortable weight against his shoulder and an arm thrown across his waist. His own arm was wrapped around a strong but slender body, and he pulled the weight of it closer, tightening his grip on instinct. 

The gentle combing continued. 

His eyes fluttered open. Byleth’s green hair was fanned out across his chest, covering her face. She stirred, but didn’t move away. 

“Awake now, sleepy boy?”

Claude’s head turned the other direction. His mother was sitting cross-legged at his other side, smiling. She ran her hands through his hair again. 

Claude sighed. “I didn’t mean to…” 

Judith shook her head. “It’s okay,” she told him. “One of my men let me know when Byleth didn’t come back to her tent in time. It’s not that late.” 

Silence fell between them for a few moments. Claude turned away from Judith to look up at the sky. “We like to look at the stars after a hard fight,” he whispered finally. “It helps us relax. Puts this war into perspective.”

“You always were fascinated by the night sky.” She kept combing through his hair. His eyes fluttered closed again for a moment, and she laughed quietly. “You should get to bed, though. You might catch cold out here like this.” 

Claude nodded, forcing himself to open his eyes again. Byleth stirred a second time, her head lifting some of its weight from his shoulder. 

“Mm? Oh - Judith!”

“ _ Oof. _ ” 

Byleth put her hand on Claude’s stomach and pushed herself up to sitting in a blink of an eye, forcing the air out of his lungs. 

“I was just telling the boy that you two should head to bed, or you’ll get sick,” Judith repeated. 

“Yes, you’re - I’m sorry, it’s been a long day, I didn’t mean-”

Judith just laughed again. “Relax, girl. It’s okay. I’ve been aware for a long time, and I’m not selling your secrets to the Imperials any time soon.” She reached across Claude to comb her fingers through Byleth’s hair maternally, as well, tucking some of it behind an ear. Even in the faint glow of the moon and stars, he could see Byleth blushing. 

“I already told you, By - she’s known since the start.”

“I have,” Judith answered. 

Byleth sighed, her rigid shoulders relaxing again. “Well, it’s a good thing it was  _ you _ that found us, then.” She scrubbed at her eyes with the heels of her palms, then covered a wide yawn. 

“At least the two of you managed to fall asleep. That’s better than the outcome of our last fight, isn’t it?” Judith asked. 

Claude nodded, but didn’t say anything. He watched Byleth stand and stretch. She offered him her hand, and he sat up and took it, letting her pull him onto his feet. 

Judith sighed as she stood. 

“Thank you, Judith,” Byleth murmured. 

“Don’t mention it,” Judith answered with a smile. She combed her fingers one more time through Claude’s hair, then turned and left them without another word. 

Claude watched her go until she was out of sight. 

“I envy you, you know.” 

Claude turned to look at Byleth when she spoke. It was hard to see her expression through the darkness. “Why?”

“I never knew my mother. She died to give me life.” 

“I remember.” Jeralt had written about it in his diary. 

“I never really wondered what that relationship might feel like. But… seeing you and Judith, it makes me… I don’t know. I’ve never had someone even just do  _ that _ . It’s an odd feeling. I don’t know what it is.” 

“Longing, maybe,” he told her. His hands found her waist, and she stepped in closer, allowing him to wrap her up in an embrace. He placed a kiss on the top of her head. “It’s a hard one to explain.” 

She nodded. “I think you’re right, though.” She stepped away and yawned again. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Claude frowned, confused. “Tell you what?” 

“Your name.” 

“I’ve always been Claude to you.” 

“I know, but… wouldn’t you prefer to be called by your real name?”

He shrugged. “I like the way you say it. I think I’d miss it if you stopped.” 

“Well, if you change your mind, make sure you let me know.” She yawned again, loudly this time. 

Claude laughed kindly at her. “Go to bed. I’ll see you in the morning.” 

“Goodnight, Claude.” 

“Goodnight, By,” he murmured in response. She stepped closer and stood on her toes, giving him a quick peck before brushing past him toward the camp and her tent. 

Claude looked out over the horizon for a few minutes after she left. Just at the edge of his vision, the ruins of Fort Mercer smouldered, casting an eerie red glow against the stars. 

_ Once again, things just aren’t adding up. _ Why would the Imperial army destroy their best defensive structure?  _ Was _ it even the Imperial army? Or was it the work of those other mages they were working with? What had those javelins been made of? How were they enchanted to cause such incredible devastation? 

He shook his head as he yawned. Trying to puzzle it out now wasn’t going to do him any favours. He was too tired for that. 

He took one last look at the twinkling sky above before turning back toward the camp, hoping that tomorrow wouldn’t be as long as he feared it might be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please believe me when I say I do *not* want to see a white-washed Claude. It was a matter of survival, and nothing more.


End file.
